Almost Never After
by WordsInStitches
Summary: Anastasia Steele relives her up and down relationship with Christian Grey in a different world outside of Fifty Shades of Grey. Note: This story does not contain any BDSM. Rating may change as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on Christian Grey.

It was a long time ago, but I can still remember every detail like it just happened yesterday. I was working an internship at the local paper, in the advertising office. We had been gathering together the ads that were meant to run in the next day's paper, and I had yet again misplaced my water. I swear, I felt his presence behind me even before I saw him, but I was in such a hurry that I didn't even think about it. I turned away from the table, searching for my water bottle, and there he was. Our eyes met…

...and everything changed. Forever.

I forgot everything in that moment. Where I was, what I was doing, who was with me. All I saw, for that fleeting moment, was him. I could feel his eyes boring into my own; his stare matching mine. I took in every detail that built him in physical form. His thick, copper hair, his clean shaven, masculine face, the slight curl of his lip as he looked back at me, his tall, firm build; but, most of all, his eyes. Those steel, grey eyes. It could have been a split second or a shared moment, but regardless of which one it actually was, we connected with that simple look - something that I would not realize was mutual until a later time.

The world crashed back in as suddenly as it disappeared. I could hear the sounds of the hustle and bustle in the office, the phone ringing in the background, the nagging of my coworkers as they fought our usual deadline. I felt my cheeks begin to flush as Christian stood there, staring at me, and I felt self-conscious that he found me odd.

"Hello." I said quickly, skirting around him as I remembered the reason I had turned to face him. My water; suddenly I needed it now more than before. The dryness of my throat began to burn as I started to overthink everything. How was my hair? Were my clothes mussed? Did I gawk at him like an idiot?

Granted, I am not typically confident anyway, but regardless of my lack of confidence, the sudden meeting of Christian Grey had me revisiting my insecurities like a high school freshman. Of course, at that point, I didn't even know his name.

I also now realize that my manners are not yet in order, as you don't even know who I am. My name is Anastasia Steele, though I prefer to go by Ana. Just Ana. At the beginning of my story, I was a college sophomore, hardly experienced in love and life. This is about how all of that changed. Because of him. The man who you already know to be Christian Grey. Our journey has been anything but easy - there have been bad times, as well as good and, while there were times that I wish we could have gone without, I wouldn't change a single moment, because we might not be where we are today.

We met through work. As you already know, I was working for the local paper, The Seattle Times. I wanted to be a writer, but seeing that I was a small town girl making my way to the big city, and I was really only getting started on my college education, my options were limited. I knew that, despite my lack of interest in advertising, it would get my foot in the door. If I could show my devotion to my work and my drive to move forward in my position, I was positive that I would be able to earn my place as a journalist. Call it unconventional if you will, but I was young and hungry to start my life. I had only been in one relationship before I met Christian - a rather confusing, consuming relationship that ended two years after it started. I left with a shattered heart and a questioning mind that was quick to assume the worst. I noticed that my post-relationship aura seemed to draw in some of the young men around me; men whom I was seemingly invisible to before my relationship ended, but suddenly drew around me like bees to a flower garden. I wasn't overly fond of the attention, though; despite the dread I felt of being alone, I felt disinterested any time someone tried to engage me in a conversation that involved giving me the once over. I felt happy; even free, but my brain would warn me to turn away any time I sensed that someone wanted more of me than a simple hello.

I felt so fortunate that I had Kate to confide in. My friend since we first began our college journey, Kate was also interested in journalism, but rather than opting for any position available at The Times, she chose to hold out until she was able to snag a spot writing for the paper. A year later, she was still waiting. She didn't seem to mind the wait, though - in fact, each passing day made her more determined to hold out. If anything, she felt that the free time allowed her to put more of her time and energy into the college paper, which she was excelling at, and was convinced that her hard work there would make for compelling material in her resume. While I agreed with her approach, I wasn't so confident in following her footsteps, which was why I was at the paper, doing something completely different from what I wanted. I felt that we would both reach our goals on our own terms, though she did not seem to share my feelings on the matter. Kate was so headstrong, confident, and could take charge at the drop of a hat. She was the total opposite of me in so many ways, even in her appearance. She could be a model, with height that complimented her slender figure, and long, golden hair that always fell in waves. Her smile could light up a room, and along with the way she carried herself, she demanded the attention of the whole room anywhere she walked in. I, on the other hand, was shorter than Kate; my brown hair was stick straight except for when the humid weather made it frizz just a little, and I always kept rather reserved, so I would tend to blend into the room. I wouldn't go so far as to say I felt ugly - just mousey, sometimes awkward, and not much to look at.

Perhaps that was why that gaze in his eyes when we first met made time stand still. I couldn't quite process why he stared at me with such intensity.

Kate was the one I confided in that day when I came home from work. I had been so busy after our brief encounter that I had not seen any more of the mysterious man who caught my attention that afternoon, but it hadn't left my mind for a second after it happened. I wandered in to our apartment, dropping my keys absentmindedly in the bowl by the door as I kicked off my shoes in the entryway, placed my purse on the table, and walked into the living room.

"Hey, Ana!" Kate called from the sofa, on her laptop as she scoured Google for sources to use in her next article. She was almost entirely absorbed, save a small amount of attention she spared to hear me answer her greeting.

"Hi, Kate." I replied, still slightly dazed. I sat down on the sofa beside her, water bottle in hand as I unscrewed the top and took a sip. I glanced briefly at the screen to see what her search was bringing up; statistics for a watershed project. I might have been more interested if my mind wasn't elsewhere.

Kate could tell that I was distracted. "Something interesting happen to you at work today?" she asked, still focused on her search.

"You could say that…" I replied, thinking about his grey eyes.

Kate turned her attention away from her work and looked at me, raising her eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh?" she asked, intrigued. "What happened?"

Staring off into the distance, I shook my head. "Nothing, really…" I replied, absentmindedly. "Or something."

"This sounds interesting." she replied, closing her laptop and sitting up to give me her undivided attention. "What was it?"

"I met someone...I mean, sort of." I told her, quickly revising my statement. "I don't know if you could call it meeting him, since we didn't really even talk."

This seemed to grab Kate's interest even more than my previous statement. Her eyes widened slightly, and she began to smile. "Oh, so you met a _guy_!" she exclaimed, sitting closer. "Who is he? What does he do? What does he look like? I'll bet anything he's hot!"

"I...I really don't know." I admitted, answering her questions, but dancing around her last statement. Was he 'hot'? I had never really thought of anyone in that sense before. I had been attracted to other guys a few times before; mainly their attitude rather than their appearances. That was most likely the reason why I began my last relationship; despite the lack of physical attraction, I felt an emotional pull to draw closer to my ex. That wound up being based on false fabrications, though; the main reason why I hadn't dated since our relationship ended. But, I asked myself, was this mysterious, new stranger 'hot'?

Yes. He was _very_ hot.

"So let me get this straight," Kate said, eyeing me suspiciously, "You met someone today at work who you know nothing about, but you're completely distracted and can't stop thinking about?"

I nodded.

"He's hot." she said, convinced.

Though I wouldn't yet say it aloud, I agreed.

After our chance meeting, it would be a few more days before I would see him again. I found myself tiptoeing around corners at work, glancing over my shoulder at random times, and even slipping into other parts of the floor in hopes that I might stumble on him. After the third day, I felt silly for putting so much effort into someone I had only seen once. It seemed pretty obvious that he was only there once, and he wouldn't be coming back. Or, so I thought.

The fourth day was when I was proved wrong. I came in with my morning cup of tea, to go, from a nearby coffee shop. As I turned the corner into the advertising department, I nearly ran into someone who was turning the corner, coming back out. My first thought was that I almost spilled my hot tea on someone, and I panicked slightly at the notion. Strong hands held my shoulders as I began spewing apologies, checking the cup in my hand and the body before me, which I soon realized was taller...and masculine. I looked up to put a face to the victim, and saw steel grey eyes looking back down at me. My heart skipped a beat, and reawakened with a thud.

It was him. He had come back.

"Oh my God…" I murmured, quickly adding louder, "I'm so sorry! I should have been paying attention-"

"It's okay." he replied calmly, in a low rumble; the first time I heard his voice. "You missed me."

I felt my cheeks flush hot as his voice echoed in my ears. I looked him over once more and saw that he was right - despite our sudden near collision, he had come out unscathed. I made myself look back up and felt a second skip, followed by another thud as my heart managed to jumpstart back to life.

"Great." I said, sighing with relief. I started to sidestep around him to let him leave, and he mirrored my move, chuckling softly as he realized we both had the same intentions. I mumbled more apologies and stepped opposite of him, offering an abashed smile. He smiled back, radiantly, and I could feel myself melt down to my shoes.

"I'm Christian." he said, holding out his hand. "Christian Grey."

For a moment, I could neither process that he was offering a handshake, nor that he was introducing himself and had earned the same in return. I felt myself gawking and jumped; scrambling to free my hand of my hot cup so that I didn't leave him empty handed, and I struggled to find my voice.

"Anastasia Steele." I replied nervously, shaking his hand way too hard.

A crooked grin crossed his lips, and he seemed to be almost mischievous. It was that much more attractive on an already stunning man. "Anastasia…" he repeated slowly, his intense eyes drilling right through me. "It's a pleasure."

I tried to answer him, but as I opened my mouth, the marketing manager, Danielle, walked by.

"Morning, cover boy." she said casually, winking at Christian. She smiled sweetly at me as she continued to walk past. "Ana."

Her greeting reminded me that I had work to do. I turned back to Christian and apologetically ducked around him. "I'm sorry, but I have to get to work. It was nice meeting you, Christian."

"The feeling is mutual, Miss Steele." he replied; the gentle roar of his voice so deliciously captivating. The thoughts I had running through my mind were enough to make me blush once again.

"Ana." I corrected quickly, turning to glance at him one more time as I hurried to my desk. "Just Ana."


	2. Chapter 2

Thinking of the first time I met Christian Grey brings back so many memories. All of the feelings I experienced, the emotions, the intensity of it all; all new and unknown to me at that point in my life. Remembering it all makes me feel like that young and inexperienced girl again, and it makes me smile. Christian Grey was a life experience for me; he influenced so much of who I am today. I had no idea all those years ago what would come of our meeting, but looking back now, I can't even imagine my life if things had happened differently.

When Christian left the office that morning, and I scrambled to my desk, Danielle was watching me, smiling. I was blind to the fact that she would prove to play a key role in the beginning of our relationship, but at that point in time, she barely knew any more about him than I did. Danielle was in her late 30s; a highly experienced individual loving her career in marketing. She had dreamt of working in advertising the same way Kate dreamt of being in journalism, and she had the attitude to match. She was a tough boss to work under on some days; pushing hard to make deadlines, and to add an extra pop to our final publications, but she was also compassionate, and a people person. I might have been reserved with most of my coworkers, but I found it easy to confide in her from time to time.

When I made it to my desk and set my things down, I looked up to see Danielle smiling at me.

"I see you met Christian Grey." she said casually.

I flushed slightly. "Yes." I replied quietly, thumbing through the papers on my desk for what I needed for our current piece.

"He's new. He's a freelance photographer." she continued, still smiling.

So that's why I hadn't seen him for a few days. "He is?" I asked, possibly sounding overly interested.

"Mmm-hmm." Danielle hummed, looking over the spread she had laid out on her own desk. "He'll be one of those in and out faces. Who knows when we'll see him again."

The realization that he wasn't a regular fixture in the office was both alarming and disheartening. I had hoped that I would see him again, but not only was there a possibility that he might come back when I least expected it, he might not come back at all. Suddenly, it seemed like our formal meeting might also be our farewell.

I hardly knew him…

"Then again," Danielle added lingeringly, "I don't know what he was doing in our offices - he doesn't shoot for the marketing department. I wonder if he got lost?"

I could have sworn I heard her add under her breath, 'Or he came here on purpose', but it was so faint that I convinced myself that I had imagined it. I made it a point to force myself to focus on my work for the rest of the day, despite the nagging question that stayed on my brain. Would I ever see Christian Grey again?

Before I knew it, my stomach informed me that lunch hour had arrived. Somewhat frustrated that I was struggling with my work, I tossed my papers back on my desk before I got up, grabbed my purse, and made my way to the elevator. An elevator ride and a quick stroll through the lobby later, I made my way outside, and down the sidewalk a block to my favorite lunch stop. Stepping in the small deli, I placed my order for the daily special of a soup and sandwich. Just as I moved out of the way for the next person, a voice beside me made me jump.

"You eat here often?"

I spun around and came face to face, once again, with Christian Grey. He was smiling the same crooked smile he'd smiled earlier this morning, and his eyes shone with intrigue. I could tell that I had to look like I had just been ambushed. It seemed to amuse him.

"I usually just pick up something to go. It gets pretty busy in here." I replied, not really thinking as I spoke.

"I know what you mean," he agreed, "It can get pretty loud in here sometimes. This place is pretty popular."

I nodded in agreement. "The food's good, though." I admitted, struggling to find something else to say that didn't sound as lame. "Danielle told me that you're a freelance photographer."

He seemed both surprised and proud that I knew this tidbit of information. "I am," he replied, his eyes sparkling. Why was I always so drawn to his eyes? "One of my shots actually made the front page this morning."

So that was why Danielle called him 'cover boy'. I would have to grab a copy of the morning edition so I could see his work. "That's great," I said, "Congratulations."

"Thanks." he replied. Just as he was about to say something else, my order was called. I walked over to the window and grabbed it, thanking the cashier before I returned to Christian, who was waiting patiently where we previously stood.

"Well…" I said lingeringly, holding up my paper bag lunch as a sign that I had gotten what I came for. "I guess I'd better head back to the office."

He hesitated slightly, as though he had something unfinished to say to me, but then he smiled once more. "Busy girl," he replied, "I'll see you around."

The way he said it sent a small shiver down my spine. It was such a common phrase, but the way his voice resonated the words, and the way he looked at me when he said it made it so personal, so...intimate. It was as though we were the only two people in the room. I fought back the heat rising in my cheeks and smiled back, nodding.

"You, too."

When I got back to the office, I sat down with my lunch, but found myself picking at it while I replayed my encounters with Christian Grey. What was it about him that absorbed me so? I knew something about him now, but it was so little that he was still a mystery to me. I remembered his mention of the front page of the morning paper and walked across the office to where the morning editions were typically stacked. There were still a few copies left, so I picked one up and unfolded it to have a good look. On the front page was an article about improvements the city was planning on making to the park. The accompanying picture a typical setting that most Americans would picture when thinking of a park in the big city - a pond, surrounded by a jogging path, and benches evenly spaced out around the outer edge. In the picture sat one lone man; elderly, dressed in a large coat that seemed to eat him up, and a hat that looked like it had lived life along with him from high school to present day. The frail old man would have blended into the background in most pictures, but this picture seemed to focus on him. It craved him; needed him for life and individuality in what could have otherwise been an average picture. It was as though the photographer meant to focus on him, to show the world that the park was so obviously important to this man; that it was anything but a lost cause to bring life to an aging part of the community. I looked under the photo, and under the bottom corner I read with a smile:

_Photo by Christian Grey._

He wasn't just an attractive stranger. He saw the world in a way that, when he shared it, could wake up the rest of the world and allow them to see the hidden beauty in their day-to-day lives. He had an eye for photography; he had a gift. I knew a little more about him, and yet, I wanted to know even more. It wasn't enough. But I didn't know when I would see him again. If I was going to learn more about him, I would have to be patient and wait to see him again.

When I walked in the door after work, Kate was perched on the edge of the sofa, waiting. She eyed me suspiciously and greeted me eagerly with, "How was your day?"

I couldn't help but blush. "It was busy…" I replied, smiling as I thought about how the day's events transpired.

Kate jumped up from the sofa. "You saw him again!" she exclaimed excitedly. "And? Did you two talk?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little. Kate's excitement was contagious, and I had already been mooning over our meetings all afternoon. "Yes, and yes." I replied, wandering over to the sofa and sitting down. "It wasn't for very long, but at least I know a little bit about him now."

"Well?!" Kate pried, "What's his name?! Where's he from?! Is he single?!"

"Kate!" I exclaimed. "I didn't ask him where he was from or….that, but he did introduce himself. His name is Christian. Christian Grey."

Kate's eyes widened. "Christian Grey?" she echoed, "The photographer? I've seen some of his work; I've been trying to get in touch with him to see if he'd contribute any of his shots to the school paper!"

"You know him?" I asked, surprised. Before today, I had never even heard of him, but Kate seemed to know everything about him.

"Well, no, I mean, I've heard his name tossed around campus, and I've seen some of his shots used in the paper, but other than that, I don't know him. I mean, I haven't met him or anything." She seemed a bit ashamed, as though she had given me false hope. "But hey, if you see him again...can you mention something about the paper for me?"

Leave it to Kate to reach for every opportunity. I nodded, agreeing. "If I see him again," I promised, "I'll _try _to remember."

Kate laughed. "If you can even remember your name if you see him again!" she teased, winking as she chuckled. "So, what _did_ you two talk about?"

I told Kate about nearly running into Christian this morning, and our accidental meeting in the deli. I told her about how he seemed so casual and confident, and how it made me feel like a total mess. She had an all-knowing smile as I told her what was going through my mind, as though she knew something I didn't. She told me that she thought he was interested in me, and that she was positive it wouldn't be long before I would see him again. I gave her my usual, reserved response, insisting that it would be left to chance, since he was only freelance, and not on the paper's regular payroll. My conversation with Kate brought back the uncertainty I had felt this morning after my conversation with Danielle. Our meeting at the deli was sheer luck. Who was to say I would see Christian Grey again? Would another publisher see his work on the front page and offer him a permanent position? Nothing was certain, but as I fell asleep, I felt sure that I would see him again.

The next week was absolutely crazy - with spring break right on top of us and tax season coming to a close, advertising in the paper became swarmed with deals and sales to draw customers into businesses all over the city to increase revenue. Likewise, the paper was trying its best to increase the demographic of readers by coming up with new, appealing techniques to catch the eyes of college students who had not quite given the paper a chance. I caught a few glimpses of Christian throughout the week, but it was always in the middle of working with Danielle, and he would glance over at our desk briefly before walking away. Each time he did this, I found myself catching my breath, waiting to see if he would walk over, but he never would. Once or twice, I saw him talking with Danielle as I was working on a project alone, but he would never come talk to me. Danielle would look over at me as though she was talking about me, but she would never say anything about the conversations after Christian left. I began to wonder if he was interested in older women, and maybe his intensity was in my head. Maybe I was projecting his supposed interest in me on him myself, and he was simply being polite. Maybe he was pretending to be interested in me because he saw the effect he had on me, and he enjoyed watching me squirm. I began feeling self conscious again, and tried to put Christian Grey out of my mind. Let him have whomever he wants; I don't care. I tried to convince myself of this, but I still couldn't keep him out of my mind.

I was burying myself in my work on a busy Thursday when Danielle interrupted my focus.

"You know, I've been thinking." she said pensively. "I never see you date, Ana."

The statement surprised me, but I kept my eyes on my work. "I'm not really that interested in dating right now." I replied blandly, trying not to completely lose focus.

"Really?" she asked, sounding unconvinced. "You're not interested in dating anyone at all?"

That wasn't true, and she seemed to already know it. But I wasn't interested in admitting my fascination with Christian Grey to Danielle; not when she seemed to be cozying up to him herself. So, instead, I simply shrugged. "No, not really."

I could tell Danielle was smiling even though I wasn't looking at her. "So if I told you that someone here at work was interested in dating you, you wouldn't even want to know who it is?"

Her question piqued my interest, and I visibly perked up before I had a chance to control my reaction. Her smile widened, and I knew I was at least, in part, busted.

"So there _is _someone." she insisted, almost reading my thoughts. "Well, honey, if you ever decide that you want to give the dating scene a try, let me know first, okay? I know someone that wants a chance to spend some time with you."

Could it be? Was it possible that she meant Christian? Was that the reason behind their conversations? It was already starting to gnaw at me, but I fought the urge to tell Danielle everything in hopes to find out if it was Christian that showed interest in me. Instead, I returned my attention to my work, smiling at the possibilities.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few weeks continued in similar fashion as the previous week had. Now that spring break was over, I was back to juggling work and a partial course load at the university during the afternoon hours. By the time I got home in the evening, I wanted nothing more than to skip my assignments and curl up with a good book. At work, I was always stealing glances around the office and slipping off to the water cooler in the hopes that I might catch the mysterious Mr. Grey once more; though it seemed as though he had disappeared. I may have been right to assume that his success in getting one of his photos published on the front page of the paper would bring him more interesting, promising work. Either way, I would walk in to work each morning, hopeful, and leave each afternoon, disappointed. In class, I would find myself drifting off from the instructor's lectures and begin envisioning his face; his slightly mussed, copper hair, his crooked smile, and those captivating eyes that matched his name. I would leave class in a trance, telling myself that I was a few hours closer to a new day, and another chance.

Frustration gripped me as I reached the third week, still yet to see the elusive Mr. Grey. I fought with a swirl of emotions as I felt like a silly girl, a woman possessed, and a forsaken old maid, all rolled into one. Bronte may have enjoyed creating a character around me at this point in my life. I was the quiet, independent woman whose life was beginning to center around a man who was seemingly free of the same fate. By Thursday, my frustration was exacerbated by the stress of my work and course load, and I couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Danielle," I asked, shortly after we both arrived at the office and began working. "I was curious; whatever happened to the photographer...Christian Grey?" I hoped that I came across as casual; not needing to create another level in my personal hell by means of embarrassing revelations, courtesy of my supervisor. She smiled at me suspiciously, but didn't make any comment toward her potential assumptions.

"He usually brings his work to the fourth floor after lunch." she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really." I snapped. Realizing I sounded rude, I added; "It's just been a while since I've seen him. Seeing that's he's freelance, I didn't know if he was still doing any work for The Times."

Danielle chuckled slightly, shaking her head. "No, he still comes in." she said, and I knew I could sense a hint of intrigue in her voice, as though she suspected something about my interest. "Just later in the day."

"I see…" I murmured thoughtfully, more to myself than to Danielle. I began to focus on my work once again, understanding why I hadn't seen him in so long. It was disappointing, knowing that he wouldn't be anywhere near the office until after I left. Just as I began racking my brain to figure out when I would have another holiday from classes, Danielle interrupted my thoughts.

"Have you given any thought to what we spoke about a few weeks ago?"

I hesitated. If my suspicions were right, she had seen more of Christian in the past few weeks, and they had more than likely spoken at least a few times. If she was asking for his sake, she could be my saving grace; but if he wasn't the interested individual, I could be setting myself up for a nasty blind date. I didn't want to take any chances - but, if I wanted Danielle's help, I would have to open up to her. Just a little.

" I have…" I admitted slowly, building up the nerve to speak more boldly than I had before to anyone other than Kate.

"And?"

"I'm on the fence about it."

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that, Ana?"

I took a deep breath. "What I mean is, I would be interested in dating again, but...it would have to be the right person."

Danielle put her pen down and gave me her undivided attention. "Is that so?" she asked, and I could feel my determination begin to falter. "Do you have someone in mind?"

I felt the heat begin to rise in my cheeks. I hesitated, uncertain if I really wanted to admit to Danielle that I wanted to see Christian again; that I would even go on a date with him, despite barely knowing him. But I knew that, if I was right, telling her the truth could help me see him again.

"Yes, I do." I replied nervously, closing my eyes for a moment as I plucked up the courage to say what I needed to say. "Christian Grey."

When I opened my eyes, I could see that Danielle was the picture of bliss. It was as though I had made her day. I blushed deeper as her reaction sealed my assumptions, as well as my biggest wish - Christian Grey was _interested in me_.

The lesson I learned that day was that, sometimes, you have to swallow your fears and speak your piece, because if you keep quiet, you could miss out on something great. Of course, the only gratification I had by the end of that day was the verbal reassurance Danielle gave me that, yes, Christian had been talking to her nearly every day, and he had been asking about me. She did have a little more to tell me about him, though she wouldn't go past anything basic. She insisted that I would get to know more about him on my own. He was a few years older than me; in his late 20s, in fact. He had been a photography aficionado in high school, but never went on to college; the main reason why he was struggling now as a freelance photographer. He didn't tell her much about his family, but he mentioned a sister once or twice, vaguely. He didn't seem to talk very much about himself, and as it turns out, he never held a conversation with Danielle for more than five or ten minutes. Most of the time, he was asking her where I was, and when I might be back. It was sheer dumb luck that he would show up within minutes after I left the office for my classes, and each day it seemed that fate would play a cruel trick, and we would miss each other once again. Knowing what I now knew, though, I wouldn't allow it to happen again. I was determined that I would see Christian Grey again before the weekend.

I arrived at my afternoon class, wheels turning in my mind as I rehearsed my excuse for missing class the next day. I had everything planned out; my father was coming to town for the weekend because he had been sick during spring break and stayed home. He would be arriving at the airport at 1:50pm, and I would be waiting for him to spare him the added expense of a cab ride. He would be staying Friday night into Saturday, and Sunday afternoon he would be taking his flight home. I continued to rehearse this lie throughout the class, barely hearing anything the instructor had to say. At one point, I could have sworn I heard him call my name, and I jumped in my seat, making the students around me stop taking notes as they stared, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. After what felt like an eternity, the instructor finally dismissed the class, and everyone began leaving their seats and heading for the door. I waited a few minutes before I got up from my own seat, and made my way to the oblivious instructor.

"Professor Lane?" I said timidly, catching the sound of uncertainty in my voice. I drew courage from within for a second time that day and spoke up, more confident. "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to class tomorrow. My father - "

"That's fine, Miss Steele." he replied, obviously distracted by turned in assignments that had piled up on his desk. "I'll see you on Monday."

I hesitated, unable to believe it was so simple. "But Professor," I asked, "Don't you need to know my reason?"

Professor Lane looked up from his papers, giving me a quizzical look from behind his glasses. "Miss Steele, you are one of my hardest-working students." he said matter-of-factly. "If you need a day off from class, you have a real reason, and I understand. Your work is already done for the week, and you don't have any markups to review. I'll see you on Monday."

I smiled and thanked him, turning to leave the room. Inside, I was burning. After all of the worrying I did, the mental rehearsals to make sure I had my story straight, and I didn't even need it?! And all because my instructor felt that I was trustworthy! If he only knew the real reason why I wouldn't be in class tomorrow, he would fall right out of his chair! I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't have the opposite reaction and find myself reluctantly withdrawing my request, and began to wonder what tomorrow had in store for me, now that I would be at work in the afternoon, when a certain Christian Grey would most likely reappear.

Friday dragged on and on. The morning lingered with the slowest second hand I've ever seen on a clock. I felt like I would pass out from hunger, and was positive that lunch hour had arrived. Instead, I looked up to see that it was only 10:30am. I was on the verge of beating my head into my desk when Danielle spoke up.

"That damn clock is running slow today!" she snapped.

I sighed with relief. Thank God I wasn't the only one who felt that way; I was nearly convinced that I was going insane. I watched as Danielle got up from her desk and took the clock off of the wall.

"You'd think the night janitor, or _someone_ would have the common sense to check the batteries in these things once a month!" she continued. "It makes me wonder who checks the smoke detectors...morons…" Fiddling with the clock, she replaced the batteries with a pair she had stashed in her desk. She fixed the time on the clock before returning to the wall, hanging it back in its original position. Now the clock read 12:09pm. I beamed. It was lunch hour!

Jumping up from my desk, I practically danced my way toward the elevator. "Do you want me to pick anything up for you, Danielle?" I asked merrily.

Nearly laughing at my sudden change in attitude, Danielle shook her head. "I'm all set, Ana, but thanks. Hurry back; if you're staying over this afternoon I can really use your help."

"I won't be long." I promised cheerfully, walking backward toward the elevator. I spun around as I drew close to the elevator doors, just in time for the doors to open. As I began to step in to the elevator, I bumped into someone stepping out. Kismet, if you will, was in play at that exact moment, as the person I bumped into was, for the second time, Christian Grey.

"Well, now," he exclaimed, looking down at me with sparkling eyes. "Where have you been?"

I found myself divided, as my typical reaction was to blush and answer modestly, but my mood was soaring above the clouds, and playfulness filled my reply. "Where have _you _been?" I echoed back, smiling gleefully.

Christian's expression was a mixture of surprise and fascination. He obviously wasn't expecting me to answer him so boldly, but he seemed to like the openness of the response. He smiled his crooked grin and asked again, "Where have you been?"

"In class." I answered, honestly this time. "And, now, lunch. I'll be right back." I looked over at Danielle who was giving me an all-knowing smile. I smiled back at her, and Christian caught our exchange. He glanced over at Danielle and seemed to understand that she had something she needed to speak with him about.

"Ahh." he replied slowly, inching his way toward the office. "I see. Well, I wouldn't want to keep you. Anastasia."

I fought the urge to blush. "Christian." I replied, mirroring his farewell as I slipped into the elevator, and the doors closed. I could only guess what Danielle would say to him while I was gone, and I wondered what he would make of it. Would anything come of it? Would he ask me out? Or was he waiting for me to make the first move? I had no idea how all of this worked. My ex, Jose, and I had been friends for a few months before he surprised me one day by kissing me. After that, it seemed automatic that we would be dating. He was a bad example to refer to in creating a new relationship, though - I shuddered at some of the memories from our time together. Rather than dwelling on the past, though, I focused on the present; and wondered about the future.

It seemed like ages before my order was called, and I snatched up the paper bag as quickly as I could, fighting my way out the door. Fresh air hit me like a welcome friend, and I wondered if it was even possible to fit so many people in such a small building. I began to think that it might be worth looking for a new lunch spot...or the extra ten minutes it would take me to pack a lunch every day. I pondered this possibility as I walked back into the office building, and back into the elevator. When I reached the sixth floor and the doors began to open, my thoughts began to shift to what potential exchange Danielle and Christian shared during my absence, when they were interrupted by the very same person who was on my mind.

Christian slipped into the elevator and hit the button for the fourth floor. Before I had a chance to move forward, he also pushed the button to close the doors. I opened my mouth to say something, but the elevator shifted and began to move. I looked over at him, slightly annoyed.

"I only have five minutes left before I'll get in trouble for taking a prolonged lunch." I groaned.

Christian smiled and hit the emergency stop button. The elevator shuddered, and my heart jumped. What was he doing?!

"This won't take long." he said confidently, still smiling. I felt myself begin to blush as he took his time to begin explaining what was going on, looking into my bright blue eyes as though he could read my thoughts. After a pause, he spoke again.

"So I've heard that you're single." he said.

I nearly burst into laughter. I bit my tongue and instead smiled mischievously. "Maybe." I replied, letting him lead the conversation.

"I've also heard that you're pretty particular about your dating preferences." he continued. A laugh escaped me before I had a chance to contain it.

"That sounds fairly accurate." I admitted, biting my lip. I caught on to the reaction and quickly moved my hand in front of my mouth, trying to hide the nervous twitch.

He seemed to notice regardless, and his smile faded from brilliant to subtle. "Well, then, Miss Steele, seeing that you're single, yet particular, there's really only one thing left for me to do."

I hesitated, waiting to see where he was going with this. Was he going to call me out for admitting to Danielle that I was interested in him, or would he mess with my head? So far, it seemed as though he was already toying with my mind; feeling me out, trying to draw me into the conversation so that I would concede and tell him everything he already knew. Part of me wanted to do this; anything would be better than standing in awkward silence in this elevator, stopped between floors. A voice broke the silence; but it didn't belong to Christian.

"This is the maintenance team; is everything okay?" an unfamiliar voice buzzed through the emergency intercom.

"Everything's fine," Christian replied calmly, almost annoyed. "I just bumped into the emergency stop button. I'm fixing it now." He stared at me with a great intensity, like he knew what he wanted to say next, but not how to say it.

"Okay, thank you." the voice buzzed on the intercom, and a soft click alerted us that we were no longer heard by anyone but ourselves once again.

Once again, Christian was silent. I couldn't stand the silence - I spoke up.

"Well?" I asked, almost impatiently. I was convinced that he was enjoying my torture. Sure enough, he smiled.

"Well," he echoed, leaning closer. My breathing hitched. "Are you planning on giving me your number, or not?"


	4. Chapter 4

It was official; I was on cloud nine - Christian Grey had asked for my number. Of course, he got it, and with a sly smile, he had started the elevator once more, keeping his cool as I scrambled out on to the fourth floor, my head swimming in my disbelief. Sure, Danielle had told me that he had been asking about me, and that he was interested in me, but it could have been a joke. For all I knew, she wanted me to make a pass at him so she could laugh at my awkwardness and enjoy the show as a confused Christian told me he wasn't interested, or available. He left me on the fourth floor with a single vow to call soon. And then, he was gone.

I was absolutely useless for the rest of the afternoon. All I could do was stare out the window by my desk and replay the moment in my mind. It took maybe an hour before Danielle realized that I wasn't going to be any help to her and let me leave. I was walking out of the building when my phone rang. I looked at the screen, puzzled. I didn't recognize the number, which could only mean one thing. But would he really call so soon? I answered the number, curious to find out.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Steele."

So maybe he _would_ call so soon. "Christian, hi." I replied, trying to hide how flustered I felt.

"Now that I know how to reach you outside of work, I was hoping to find out if you might be free tonight."

Tonight? He seemed to enjoy moving fast. I hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come...and yet… "I actually just left the office. Did you have something in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." The low rumble of his voice was so deep, so inviting; I shivered slightly at the infatuation it made me feel. "Would you care to meet me for dinner? I thought you might like to enjoy a meal that you don't have to grab on the go in a paper bag."

"That sounds nice." I replied, trying not to squeak as I answered. Dinner, with Christian Grey. Just a few days ago, I didn't think I would ever see him again, and now, we were going on a date. "Where do you want to meet?"

"At the Space Needle." he said confidently, "Let's say, 7:30?"

The Space Needle? That was a tourist spot. I was a little surprised that he didn't have a hidden nook in mind, but I was anything but interested in picking on his choice in venue; or choosing a new one. "Sounds good," I replied, "I'll see you then." Hanging up, I smiled and did a little spin in the middle of the sidewalk before I began my trip home.

When I got home, Kate didn't even have a chance to ask how my day was. One look at my face had her scrambling to tell me what happened to me while I was gone, and before she could even start, I started for her.

"You won't believe it, Kate - _he's _been asking about _me_, and _he _asked _me_ for _my_ number, _and_ he _just_ called me and asked _me_ out! _Tonight!_" I knew I sounded ridiculous, but I didn't care. I was gushing. I was excited. I was _giddy_.

"Ana, that's incredible!" Kate exclaimed. "I knew something good would happen! Now, you need something to wear…"

I hesitated. "Kate, I have clothes…" I stammered, knowing what Katherine Kavanaugh meant when she said I needed something to wear.

Kate took one look at me in my paisley blouse and blue pencil skirt, my hair pulled in a loose ponytail. Shaking her head, she grabbed my hand and dragged me off to her room. "Not good enough." she simply said, and I knew I was in trouble.

A closet explosion and the magical appearance of a makeup salon later resulted in a stunning woman staring at me in shock as I stood before Kate's full length mirror. This was not the Ana I saw on a daily basis; this was a sexy, sophisticated Anastasia Steele. Her hair was partially pinned back to keep it out of her face, but left loose to fall over her shoulders and down her back in soft waves. She wore a passionate rose petal pink on her lips, which was subtle enough to almost look natural. While the Ana I knew and embraced barely wore any makeup, Anastasia had gone through the gauntlet of foundation, lipstick, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara; the works, and yet, everything blended in so nicely that it looked as though Anastasia woke up every morning, looking exactly like this. She was elegant, she was lovely, and the only part of her I recognized was the nervous twinkle in her eyes as she stared back at me. Everything came together with the main piece of Kate's work - the soft pink dress that seemed to wrap around my shoulders, down my waist, and hug the top of my hips before gently falling in folds just above my knees. It was a perfect dress; something that I wouldn't mind wearing again, but something that I would have talked myself out of buying had I seen it on my own.

"Ana, you look amazing." Kate breathed. "You're going to knock him out the moment he sees you."

"Do I want to do that?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to be so incredibly different from who I am.

"Yes," Kate insisted, "You do."

I looked back at my reflection once more. "I don't know if this is right." I said quietly, my resolve faltering as I smoothed my skirt; an impossible task.

"If what's right?" Kate asked.

"Getting all dressed up like this." I admitted, " I mean, what if he likes me like this, but then he doesn't like me when I'm being plain old Ana?"

Kate gave me a look that told me she thought I was being ridiculous. "You are anything but plain, Ana." she insisted. "All I did was help highlight what was already there. Now...go knock him dead."

I smiled and hugged my friend. "Thank you." I said, feeling nervous, but relieved. I hoped that tonight would be as incredible as I'd dreamt it would.

I took a cab to the Space Needle, considering Kate and I lived at least fifteen minutes away by car, and the heels she loaned me to go with the dress would have been unforgiving if I had chosen to walk. Grasping at my clutch, I took a shaky breath before I walked in to the main lobby on the ground floor. The elevator would be able to take me straight up to the restaurant. To be completely honest, I had never been to the Space Needle before, despite my time in Seattle, and I secretly hoped that the restaurant didn't constantly spin as some of the stories I had heard promised. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as the elevator rose. I began counting backward from 3 as I drew close to my destination.

3...Was he already there, waiting for me?

2...What would he think when he saw me come in?

1...How will the night end?

The elevators stopped, and the doors opened. I looked up and saw that Christian Grey was on the other side, waiting patiently for me to meet him. I held my breath for an extra second as I waited for him to see me. Almost immediately, he turned and saw me, and I could have sworn he held his breath for a moment, too. His eyes held me once again, intensely, and I felt another shiver run through me as his eyes pierced my own. He was a sight to behold; dressed in a light grey suit, white collar shirt, and a silk grey necktie. Even his shoes seemed to shine bright and black in the light of the restaurant; almost otherworldly, as though he had come from another universe, being too perfect to come from this crazy, messed up planet. His copper hair was perfectly mussed, and I wondered if it always stayed that way. It tempted me to run my fingers through it. As I stepped off of the elevator, I caught the faint scent of his cologne, and as ridiculous as it may seem, the scent made me want to swoon. I bit my lip as I fought to regain my bearings. Once again, he seemed to notice; but only briefly.

"Anastasia, you are a sight to behold." he said softly, holding out his hand. Blushing, I placed my hand in his, and he surprised me by lifting it up and kissing the back of it ever so slightly. It was so old fashioned that I hadn't anticipated it, and I felt like I had ignited in flames. Spontaneous combustion, I think it's called. My brain could barely compute anything other than Christian at that point.

"Shall we?" he asked, and I nodded, following him to an empty table by the window. He helped me with my chair before sitting down himself, and I couldn't help but marvel at what a gentleman he was already. It was so...different from what little I knew.

"I hope you like the view." he said, looking briefly out the window to the Seattle skyline before turning his attention back to me. "I didn't think to ask you if you had a problem with heights; I'm sorry if you do. We can always move if you're uncomfortable…"

"No, this is nice." I replied honestly, briefly glancing out at the horizon in appreciation. "Heights don't bother me as long as I'm not falling from them."

Christian chuckled. "I don't honestly know of too many people who would want to fall from here." he admitted, "But there are bound to be a few."

The waiter approached us and smiled politely. "Good evening," he said, "Might I start you two off with something to drink?"

"We would like to see your wine list, please." Christian replied, without hesitation.

"I would just like a water, thank you." I answered, not wanting to give the waiter a chance to ask for my ID. I hadn't quite reached my 21st birthday yet, and was not interested in an embarrassing moment on my first date.

Christian looked at me with curiousity as I placed my drink order, and was quiet until the waiter left to gather our requests. "Water?" he asked, "You don't drink?"

"I'm only 20." I replied quietly, feeling somewhat abashed.

"Shit." he cursed softly, "I'm sorry - I didn't know."

His sincerity only raised my curiosity. "How old did you think I was?" I asked, unable to fathom the possibility that I could even appear older than I was.

"A couple of years older, maybe." he replied, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know - it never crossed my mind."

I sat back and thought on what he said for a moment, surprised. I thought I always looked younger than I actually was; a notion that was all too often reinforced by total strangers on an almost daily basis. My coworkers would constantly tease me for being a 'babyface', and any time a story began with, 'When I was a kid', I would somehow find myself mentioned as the joke of the story, because I was 'too young' to tell a story that began that way. Despite this, Christian Grey thought that I was older than 20. I could barely believe it, even though I had heard it for myself, and I saw the sincerity in his face. It was refreshing; another change from what I was used to, and I felt my spirits rise even higher.

"It's okay," I replied earnestly, "It's an honest mistake."

Christian was quiet for a moment, as though he might be cursing himself a final time before moving on. "When is your birthday?" he asked.

"In September." I replied, "When is yours?"

"June…" he replied, pensively. "I'll be 27 this year."

No wonder he seemed to be beating himself up for his faux pas. He was six years older than I, and we were still young enough for it to be a bit of a difference. In all honesty, I felt ashamed for thinking he was younger; knowing how frustrating it could be to have everyone around you think you're younger than you are. And here I was, projecting the same idea on Christian. I wondered if he was often mistaken for being younger as well. I was determined, though - I wasn't concerned with the age difference. I wanted; no, I craved to be near him. I was drawn to him, and I wanted to know more.

"Well," I said, changing the subject, "What do you want to try for dinner?"

The food turned out to be great, though I didn't think too much about my meal as I was more focused on my conversation with Christian. We talked about so much over dinner; where I came from, my mother and the husbands, my step father, Ray, who was the closest thing to a father I had ever had, college, and my aspiration to become a writer. He seemed absorbed by everything I said, and after a while, I stopped talking, and sipped my water instead.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing my sudden silence.

"It's just that I've been talking about myself so much that you haven't had a chance to tell me anything about yourself." I said, embarrassed that he let me ramble on for so long.

He chuckled softly. "I like listening to you talk." he said, "Besides, you don't want to hear about my life. It's actually pretty dull."

I could feel the intensity of my stare as I gazed at him. "Somehow, I doubt that." I said sincerely.

The crooked smile that I had already come to adore crossed his face, and he seemed to study me carefully, as though he wasn't sure if he believed me. "Well," he said, "If you really want to hear about my boring life, let me take care of the check first, and we can go searching for a change of scenery."

I smiled at the idea. It was getting a little tiring sitting in the restaurant when we had already finished eating. "Sounds great." I said.

Soon, the tab was paid, and we began to leave the restaurant. Christian hesitated for a moment, smiling at me. "Did you mean what you said at the beginning of dinner?" he asked.

I could tell this was leading somewhere. "About what?" I asked.

"When you said you aren't afraid of heights." he replied, "Save, of course, for if you're falling from them."

"Yes," I told him. "Why do you ask?"

His crooked smile was so endearing, and it captivated me more than I ever thought it could. His eyes shone as though he had a secret to tell. "Because there's one more thing we need to see before we leave." he said, offering me his hand once again. Without hesitation, I took it, and he lead me to the elevator.

Instead of going down to the ground floor, we rode up briefly, and the doors soon opened to welcome us to the observation deck. Christian stepped out, then stopped and waited for me to join him. I walked out of the elevator, and across the deck to the edge, taking in the view from even higher than before. The sight was breathtaking. I could see everything from the waterfront to the lights and clusters of buildings in the city. Suddenly, I couldn't understand why I hadn't come here before. I'd lived in Seattle for two years, and not once did I even consider visiting this landmark.

"It's something else, isn't it?" Christian said behind me, and I was so mesmerized that I didn't even feel nervous. I simply nodded, taking it all in. Everything was so beautiful from here; especially in the sparkle of the twilight.

" I can't believe I've never come here before." I said, in awe.

"You sound like a busy woman." he replied thoughtfully, standing beside me. He looked out at the horizon as I had, taking in the scenery as something old and familiar; comforting. It seemed like he felt at home where I felt like I was in heaven. "I'm sure if you had more free time, you would have found your way here eventually."

"Maybe…" I replied, equally pensive. I let silence take over for one last moment before I turned to him and smiled. "Thank you for asking me to meet you here. It's been...really nice."

Grey eyes met blue, and both of our gazes locked together. I wasn't sure about Christian, but I knew that my mind suddenly began to race a million miles a minute. He was mere inches away from me, and the night had been going so well. Was he going to try to kiss me? Did I want him to? I honestly wasn't sure. Part of me wasn't ready to move so fast, but another part of me wanted to test the waters; to see what it would be like to have his lips against mine. The notion sent a small shiver down my spine; involuntarily making me shiver outwardly.

Christian frowned, and took off his jacket. Without a word, he placed his jacket on my shoulders, pulling it around me to envelop me. He must have thought I had shivered because I was cold. I blushed at the gesture as well as the realization that he noticed the shiver, and tentatively I grasped the opening of his jacket; holding it shut. It smelled of his cologne and was warm on my shoulders; warm from his own body heat. It made me think of his arms enveloping me instead of the jacket; warming me in his embrace, burying my face in his neck and taking in his scent…

"You look like you're a million miles away, Anastasia."

Christian's voice broke me from my trance, and I blushed once more as I internally cursed myself for getting lost in my thoughts. I offered a weak smile as I tried to erase the thoughts from my mind.

"Sorry," I replied nervously, "I just...have had a very interesting day."

Once again, his crooked smile took over his face. "I hope interesting means good." he replied, holding out his hand once more.

The glimpse of innocence I caught in his demeanor gave me a new sense of confidence, and I took his hand, smiling. "Good would be an understatement." I answered, letting him lead me back to the elevator.

As we rode down to the ground floor, I realized that he had promised to tell me more about himself after dinner, but he hadn't told me anything personal while we stood on the observation deck. I looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "You never told me anything about yourself," I reminded him, "And you promised." 

"I never promised, Anastasia." he replied casually, smirking at me. "Besides, what will we talk about on our next adventure if we tell each other everything on the first date?"

His mention of a second date brought the color back to my cheeks as it proved that, not only did he enjoy himself as much as I had, but he wanted to see me again - me! I thanked the stars for my good luck, looking away and biting my lip as I began to imagine when and where we would share another night together.

"Don't do that…" he said suddenly, his voice low, almost in warning.

The change in his tone caught me unawares, and I felt my heart pitter patter at the intensity it made me feel. The low octave of his voice wasn't the only thing that grabbed me; it was the way he spoke, as though there was something forbidden about the moment. My body stirred as though an electrical charge was building inside me, and I felt an urge to toy with him and challenge his order. But we were only on our first date...and he hadn't even kissed me. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him away. So instead, I released my bite, and gasped softly; hoping he didn't hear.

The elevator finally stopped, and the doors opened, allowing us to leave the Space Needle. As I stepped out into the sidewalk, the fresh air hit me, and I felt grateful that Christian had loaned me his jacket. I would have started shivering the moment we stepped outside if he hadn't. The night was over, though, and it was time to go home. I took a deep breath, masking the fact that I was inhaling his scent from his jacket one last time.

"I want to thank you again for a wonderful evening, Christian." I said quietly, looking up at him with elation, disappointment, and hope. The night had been amazing, but unfortunately, it couldn't last forever. I just hoped that he meant what he said about asking me out again, so that we could share another evening just like this one.

"The pleasure was all mine, Anastasia." he replied softly, his smile a gentle, intimate response. I felt my heart flutter once more as I wondered if he would try to kiss me now. I hesitated for a moment, turning into a statue as I waited for him to make a move.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked, studying me as though he was trying to determine whether or not I had driven myself to our date.

"I can hail a cab." I replied casually, feeling mildly confused at the change in mood. He was beginning to seem more polite than enamored; something that should have helped me relax, but instead confused and frustrated me.

"I can give you a ride home if you like." he offered, putting his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be distancing himself now, and it only frustrated me more.

"I wouldn't want to impose." I replied simply, removing his jacket from my shoulders. I felt a twinge of pain as I handed it back to him reluctantly, as though it had become a part of me in that short time. "Thank you for loaning me your jacket."

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?" he asked, looking confused by my return of his jacket. He made no move to take it back just yet, more concerned about my decision as to whether or not I would allow him to drive me home.

His concern made me second guess my assumption that he was becoming distant. Part of me felt that I should take a cab home anyway, but I didn't want to say good night, and though I would have to eventually, taking him up on his offer would allow me to prolong the farewell for a little while longer. "If it isn't out of the way…" I replied slowly, not wanting to seem overly eager.

A smile flashed on his face, and I forgot why I ever thought he was becoming distant. "Of course not." he replied, offering his hand yet again. "This way, Miss Steele."

The drive was fifteen minutes long according to the clock, but it felt more like fifteen seconds when we reached my apartment. I looked out my window sadly, and glanced upward to my apartment window. The light shone from the windowpane, and I knew Kate was waiting for me to come in and tell her how my date went. I definitely had good things to tell her, but I knew that she would pester me about whether or not Christian kissed me goodnight. Butterflies began dancing in my stomach as I realized this would really be goodnight, and that there was a good chance I would be facing that moment, ready or not.

"Thank you for bringing me home, Christian." I said quietly, smiling thoughtfully. "And for everything else. Tonight was absolutely wonderful."

"It was my pleasure, Anastasia." he replied, just as quietly. I had begun to notice that, when Christian spoke softly, his voice rumbled, and it gave me chills. I could imagine him whispering in my ear; his voice rumbling through me as he spoke to me alone, so intimately...I fought back the thought with the promise that I would indulge myself later if I was so inclined.

"Please," I insisted, "It's Ana. Just Ana." While I liked the way my full name rolled off his tongue, it was awkward to have him calling me Anastasia when no one else did.

Something I said seemed to make him shift in his seat. He drew a sharp breath, and for a moment, I wondered if I had said something wrong, but then he smiled. "I like Anastasia." he said firmly, adding more softly, "But I will try my best. Goodnight, Miss Steele."

A faint smirk played on my lips as I got the impression that he had just politely declined my request. "Goodnight, Mr. Grey." I replied, reaching for the door handle. I froze when I felt his hand fall over mine, grasping it and drawing it toward him. I refused to resist whatever he may do next; nerves be damned. I waited to see if he would draw the rest of me any closer, but he didn't. Instead, he planted a long, gentle kiss on the back of my hand, his brilliant, grey eyes watching me as he did so. I felt my heart quicken, my cheeks flush pink, and my breathing hitch as surprise overwhelmed me.

"Until we meet again." he said in his low rumble, smiling his crooked smile, making me waver. I found myself considering taking charge of the situation and kissing him myself. Instead, I smiled and nodded, wordlessly opening the door and leaving his car. I walked to the front door and turned to see that he was waiting for me to go inside. I waved slightly, still smiling, and he waved back, still waiting for me to go in. I opened the door and stepped inside, watching him leave soon afterward.

When I got to my apartment, I didn't even have a chance to look for my keys before Kate swung the door open eagerly, excitement flushing her face.

"Ana!" she exclaimed, "Come in, hurry; I want to know how your night went! Look at you, you're blushing - what happened? Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him? How was dinner? Did you check out the observation deck before you left? I saw he brought you home - what did you two talk about?"

"Let me take these shoes off and sit down!" I laughed, kicking off Kate's heels and padding my way to the sofa, sinking in its softness. "Dinner was really nice. And the view was incredible. I can't believe I've never taken the time to see the Space Needle before - it was pretty amazing!"

"Ana Steele, are you dancing around the subject?" Kate implied accusingly, crossing her arms. "I've been to the Space Needle before, and I'm not really interested in talking about it right now. I want to know how your date went! How was Christian? Was he a gentleman? Did he tell you more about himself? Did he kiss you? Damn it, woman, I need answers!"

"No…" I replied, pensive once again. "He didn't kiss me."

Kate sat back, looking at me in shock and disappointment. "He didn't kiss you?!" she echoed, sounding more upset than I did. "What the hell is his problem?!"

"I don't think it _was_ a problem, Kate." I said. "I'm actually a bit grateful that he didn't. Everything was so perfect already…"

"You mean to tell me that you aren't even a little upset that he didn't kiss you goodnight?" Kate asked skeptically, raising her eyebrow.

I hesitated slightly, but only for a moment as I didn't have to think about my answer. "Honestly...I sort of wish he had."

I tossed and turned for at least an hour that night, unable to fall asleep. Our first date replayed in my mind over and over, highlighting the way Christian looked at me when I first arrived at the restaurant, the way I opened up to him over dinner, the amazement I felt as I gazed out into the horizon, the nervous feeling I felt the two times I thought he might kiss me, his strange reaction in the car when I asked him to call me Ana; but, most of all, in the elevator, when he told me not to bite my lip. Something about the way he said it had ignited my senses, awoke my intrigue, and enticed me to dare him to show me why he wanted me to stop. His words kept echoing in my mind….

"_Don't do that…"_

Another small shiver ran through me as I heard the tone in his voice, my memory serving me perfectly. The look in his eyes seemed to match the huskiness of his voice...revisiting the moment made me realize something that I wasn't exactly sure I could accept or even yet believe - I'd been enticing to him.

Christian Grey had been trying to resist me.

Author's Note: This is the first time I've ended a chapter with one of these in _years_! Thanks for all of the likes, follows, and reviews so far! I've enjoyed being able to update on a daily basis so far! Unfortunately, I won't be able to update for the next few days, thanks to my schedule, but I fully intend to update every evening that I don't have to be away from home...as long as I can keep my inspiration going, of course. I _am_ writing ahead of the current chapter count, so depending on how much I get done today, I might post another chapter before our three day hiatus. Cross your fingers, and I'll see you in Chapter Five! Thanks for the support!

WordsInStitches


	5. Chapter 5

The day after my date with Christian Grey was a Saturday, which was a good thing, considering I couldn't think straight. I sat around the apartment for the majority of the morning in my pajamas, absentmindedly sipping on cup after cup of hot English Breakfast tea as I kept thinking about how the previous night had gone. I wondered when he would call me back - considering my revelation as I fell asleep the night before, I highly doubted that he would never call me again. After all, his eyes were constantly on me, he offered me his jacket, and he kissed my hand twice. It may not have been the norm for a date in the 21st century, but his old fashioned habits were endearing; and history told that his actions on our date meant that he was interested. So I sat around and waited, sipping my tea, and flipping through the pages of a novel I'd borrowed from the university library. It was only a matter of time - after all, he called me within hours of getting my number. What were the odds that he wouldn't be so anxious to call again?

Before I knew it, noon had arrived, and I had no missed calls. I set my book down, mildly frustrated. Why I haven't heard from him yet?

Kate walked into the living room, yawning. Her hair was a mess, and she was in her pajamas as well. I smiled. She always slept so late on the weekend.

Maybe that's why I hadn't heard from Christian yet - he might sleep late on the weekend, too.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." I teased, and Kate replied by giving me the finger.

"Coffee." she grunted, disappearing into the kitchen. I laughed and shook my head as I watched the coffee zombie Kate go hunting for a cup of hot caffeine. I never understood the appeal behind coffee; all anyone really needed to wake up refreshed in the morning was a good night's sleep. It took a few minutes for her to return, but eventually, Kate shuffled back to the living room and sat down on the other end of the sofa, slowly sipping her mug of coffee. The first taste was all it took for her expression to brighten. I opened my mouth to talk and she shook her head, bringing the mug back to her lips. I held back a giggle; Kate was one of those people that needed to get through at least half of a cup of coffee before she would even attempt to listen to a conversation. A full cup was necessary if anyone wanted her to answer.

I got up from my seat and wandered to my room. "Well, I'm going to hop in the shower." I announced, leaving Kate to her caffeine needs. After dropping off my book in my room, I went into the bathroom Kate and I shared, and turned on the water for the shower. All too hastily, I tried to step in, and shrieked at the cold water. I wrapped my arms around myself as I waited impatiently for the water to warm up, sticking my hand in behind the curtain a few times to feel the temperature. When it finally warmed, I hopped in behind the curtain and started washing my hair; a process that had always been therapeutic to me. Most girls are worried about deep conditioning, moisturizing, and exfoliating, but I was only interested in getting clean and taking an extra moment to massage my scalp. Maybe my long hair, which was past my shoulder blades at this point, put strain on my scalp; whatever the reason, though, I loved the way it felt when I lathered up my shampoo and worked it into the roots of my hair. I'd heard that you weren't supposed to wash the roots, as it could make your hair too oily, but I didn't care. It was my one indulgence. I finished the rest of my shower and hopped out, shivering as I hurried to wrap my towel around myself. I dried off and wrapped my hair in another towel before skirting off to my room to grab something to wear. A pair of blue jeans and a pale blue blouse were enough to please me, and I slipped them on before approaching the small vanity my mother had insisted I get when I was a teenager. It had moved with me from her home in Georgia; surviving an otherwise insane road trip to the Olympic Peninsula. I used the vanity mainly to make sure my clothes didn't have any stains or wrinkles in them before I left for wherever I was going, or in this case, to blow dry my hair. I didn't like the feeling of my hair post-shower; limp, wet, noodly clumps that just seemed to hang, lifeless, fighting the urge to dry out. I plugged in the dryer and began blasting my hair, from my scalp almost all the way down to the ends. When I reached the ends, I lightly teased them with a lower setting, and only long enough to dry them partway. Once I was satisfied, I put the dryer away and picked up my phone. Still no missed calls. It was after 1pm now. Was he even going to call today?

Disappointed, I returned to the living room, phone in hand, and sat down. Kate seemed to be more awake now, though her golden hair was still mussed and she was still in pajamas. She had what had to be at least her second, if not, third cup of coffee in hand, and she smiled at me. She was awake enough to talk now.

"So what made you get up so early today, Cinderella?" she asked, "Wondering if the Prince is bringing back your missing glass slipper?"

"I thought he might call me by now…" I replied, staring angrily at my phone. I willed it to ring.

Kate laughed and shook her head. "Why would you think that?" she asked.

"He was in such a hurry to call yesterday." I replied huffily, taking a deep breath, and then sighing weakly. "Maybe he didn't have as much fun as I thought he did."

"Ana, that's bullshit, and you know it." Kate replied. "He's going to call you back. Maybe he's waiting so he doesn't seem too eager and scare you off."

Scare _me _off? That was laughable; at least, to me. "Well…" I replied, reserved, "Hopefully he doesn't wait _too_ long. I might run away."

Kate rolled her eyes at me, taking a sip of her coffee. "Well," she said, the gears in her head turning, "Maybe we should start planning your look for your next date. And _this time_, nothing from my closet."

I knew what this meant - Kate wanted to go shopping.

In the shopping district, Kate enjoyed dragging me into shops filled with casual wear, formal wear, and evening gowns that looked great - until I saw the price tags.

"Kate, have you forgotten what my meager paycheck looks like?" I exclaimed, returning a simple red gown to the rack that sported a price tag in the hundreds. "I can't afford to splurge on anything in this store!"

"Don't worry about it, Steele." Kate replied, winking. "It's a gift. Keep me in mind for maid of honor at the wedding."

My face turned a shade that resembled the gown I had just put away. "Kate, we just went on one date." I insisted, scanning the racks for something else I might like to try on.

"One date turns into two, turns into three, turns into a wedding." she replied, smirking. "Just keep me in mind."

I chuckled and shook my head, reaching for a dark blue dress that caught my eye. The next thing I knew, I was in the dressing room, trying it on. I looked at myself in the mirror and liked what I saw - the wrap dress hugged my curves, accenting them in a way that made them visible where they normally were hidden. The dress Kate had let me borrow the night before had complimented my figure as well, but she was shaped a little differently than I was; not to mention, she was also taller. The dress was meant to compliment a girl built like a model; instead, it was put on a girl who was shorter, with smaller hips and a smaller bustline. At least the flowy skirt had made it look like the entire dress was meant to float. But, this dress...If I was a little taller, I could almost pass for a model, just like Kate.

"How does it look?" Kate asked anxiously, "Let me see!"

Reluctantly, I opened the door to the dressing room and stepped out for Kate to see. I bit my lip and held my hands down by my sides as I waited to hear her opinion.

"You're too stiff!" she complained. "Do a slow spin for me!"

I slowly turned in a full circle, arms still by my sides. This did not please Kate.

"Damn it, Ana, you know what I mean!" she exclaimed, "Now do it again so I can see how the dress moves!"

Picking my hands up, I did another spin; a little faster, but still not too fast. This made Kate much happier, and she smiled in approval.

"This dress was calling you," she said proudly; "I think it was made for you."

I smiled bashfully and began searching for the price tag.

"No." she said, "You are _not_ allowed to look at the price. Go take it off and hand it over the door. I'll handle shoes while you get dressed."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Kate gave me a stern look, and I realized that anything I had to say was moot in her eyes. So, instead, I did as I was told. I went back into the dressing room and slipped off my dress, placing it back on the hanger before I handed it over the door. Kate snatched it away, and I began putting my jeans and blouse back on when I heard a voice.

"You'd better not be looking at that price tag, Steele!"

Confused, I yanked my blouse over my head and swung the dressing room door open. "What are you talking about?" I asked, furrowing my brow. "I already gave you the dress."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kate replied, equally confused, "I've been picking out these shoes for you; I haven't had a chance to grab the dress!"

My head started spinning. If Kate hadn't grabbed the dress from me, then who had been on the other side of that door? I looked around the shop and saw no one other than Kate, myself, and the clerk, who was standing at the register. Kate walked over to her, already oozing her in-charge attitude, and smiled overly-politely. I followed her, stopping a few feet behind as I knew better than to get in her way when she was in a mood.

"Excuse me," she asked, sounding snobby, "But has anyone else been by the dressing rooms other than us?"

"Only one other person, ma'am," the clerk replied, slowly, and equally snobby. "They paid for this dress, asked me to hold it for a Miss Steele, and left."

I felt as though a spotlight had been pointed in my face. I took a step forward. "I'm Miss Steele." I replied quietly.

The clerk looked at me skeptically. I reached into my purse for my ID and Kate stopped me.

"She was the woman trying the dress on in the dressing room before your..._mystery_ customer came over and took it away from her when she was handing it to me." Kate snapped. "And if you choose not to believe it, then we will take our business elsewhere."

The clerk let out an exasperated sigh and gestured for me to take the dress bag. Kate, victorious, set the shoes to match on the counter.

"Would you be so kind as to ring these up for me, please?" she asked, her tone sugary-sweet.

As we left the shop, I wondered who had bought the dress. It was a very random act for a total stranger to do, and we hadn't seen anyone else in the store. Maybe Kate was trying to freak me out. The last thing I wanted to do was ask her when she was in one of her moods. I decided it was best to keep quiet about it and be thankful for the free dress. My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound. I couldn't quite place the connection between the sound, the frequency, and the pattern, when Kate placed my phone in my hand.

"Looks like you got a text, space man." she said, smirking at me while I flushed in embarrassment. Right, my cell phone. No wonder the sound was so familiar. I opened the message and smiled as soon as I saw the sender.

New Message

From: Christian Grey

3:14 PM

Hope you're having a good day.

I had to erase a few letters a few times over before my response was legible enough to make any sense.

Sent:

From: You

3:16 PM

So far, so good. How about you?

I put my phone back in my purse, but soon cursed the move as I heard my phone go off again. I slowed my walk, falling behind Kate as I fished for it in the oblivion of my handbag. She slowed as well, smirking as I fumbled around, finding my phone and checking eagerly for the reply I had just received.

New Message

From: Christian Grey

3:19 PM

Pretty good so far. Would be better if I had some company.

Was he hinting for me to meet him? I wrote out a quick reply.

Sent

From: You

3:20 PM

Is that a hint that you would like some company, Mr. Grey?

I felt a little smug as I hit 'send' and skipped forward a few steps to catch up with Kate. She shook her head at me, chuckling, before turning and continuing our walk. It took a few minutes for me to hear my alert that a new response had arrived. His answer made me blush.

New Message

From: Christian Grey

3:24 PM

I didn't think I had to drop hints. The answer to your question should be all too obvious.

I wrote back as fast as my fingertips would allow.

Sent

From: You

3:25 PM

Where and when? I have the day off.

I began walking while staring at my phone; one of Kate's pet peeves. I normally wasn't one to do the same, but the phone was currently my lifeline, and I was anxious for each reply. Despite her ever-changing mood for the day, Kate simply smiled at my hopelessness, wordlessly. It may have been because she was reading over my shoulder every time I got a message, and she was hoping I hadn't noticed. A response came in almost as quickly as I had sent my last message; as though he had sent it tentatively, knowing what I would say.

New Message

From: Christian Grey

3:27 PM

Meet me at the Sundance in thirty minutes.

I knew the Sundance. It was a movie theater near the university. A movie date? And in a half an hour! I didn't have time to change! Plain old Ana would have to do if he didn't want to have to wait any longer. I hesitated, not wanting to ditch Kate, but I didn't want to miss an opportunity to see Christian.

"Go!" Kate insisted, still reading over my shoulder; "You'd be crazy not to!"

"But my dress…" I protested, "And the shoes - I don't even have time to bring them back to the apartment."

"Got it covered." Kate said simply, smiling. "Go have fun, kiddo."

I rolled my eyes at her for the nickname and sent a quick reply agreeing to meet Christian at the theater at 4. I began scanning the streets for a cab. "Thanks, Kate." I said gratefully, turning my attention for just a moment. "You're a great friend. I don't know how I got so lucky."

"You're going to make me cry now!" Kate groaned. She spotted a cab and flagged it down. "The feeling is mutual, Ana. Now get moving!"

As the cab pulled alongside the sidewalk, I took a step forward and stopped. "Where are you heading to next?" I asked her.

"I'll probably grab something to eat and head home." she replied, eyeing me. "Why?"

I smiled. "Want to share a cab?"

Our apartment was at least a ten minute drive from the university, and the cab technically passed a route that would have taken us there on the way to the Sundance. We ignored these facts, though; after all, I didn't want to be late, and Kate wanted to make sure I met up with Christian safely. Who knows what could have happened if she had left me waiting alone...we giggled at our excuse as we made our way to the theater.

The cab pulled up and, for the second time, Christian was already waiting for me. He stood against the wall by the front entrance, looking around patiently for any sign of my arrival. Kate gasped and oohed.

"Wowwwww…" she breathed, "Ana, look at that! Is that him?!" When I nodded, she punched me in the arm.

"How did you get so lucky?!" she asked playfully, laughing. "You had better get a kiss on the end of this date, or so help me, I will drag you back to wherever he lives and make _you_ kiss _him_. Now, go have a good time. And don't stay out too late." She winked at the end of her maternal warning, and I laughed at her good mood.

"Yes, Mother." I replied, turning to see him through the car window. He seemed to have not seen me yet. I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out of the cab. The driver waited for a moment after I shut the door to drive off; probably arguing with Kate as to how ridiculous it was to come all the way out to the theater before turning around and backtracking to the apartment. Regardless, I made my way over to Christian, and halfway between the curb and the building, his gaze landed on me, and I felt magnetized. I continued to walk toward him, but now it was almost as though he was drawing me uncontrollably, and I couldn't turn back even if I wanted to. I finally stopped in front of him, looking up into his steel grey eyes.

"Hello, Christian." I said quietly, smiling slightly. He mirrored my smile with his signature grin, and I wondered if God had made it intentionally crooked so that it could be unique only to him.

"Hello, Anastasia." he replied mischievously, his hands in his pockets. He was dressed as casually as I was; in a pair of faded blue jeans and a button-up flannel shirt, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows.

"It's just Ana. Really." I replied, biting my lip. I quickly realized what I was doing and looked down at my shoes so I could regain my composure.

I felt Christian's finger slip beneath my chin right before he tilted my face back up to look at him. My breathing hitched as the touch felt like a spark, and I knew that surprise was resonating from my eyes as I looked back up at him. He studied my aqua blue eyes intensely for a moment before shaking his head, moving his hand away from my face.

"I'll try to remember." he replied quietly, "And you would do well to remember not to bite that lip."

The husky tone returned to his voice almost exactly like it had the night before in the elevator. I felt a rosy hue creep in my cheekbones as I looked away, embarrassed.

"Right…" I replied quietly, closing my eyes briefly as I focused on taking a deep breath to relax with. I looked back up at Christian once more, and was able to find my smile again. "So, what do you want to see?"

We found ourselves sitting in on a fantasy movie about a young man who falls in love with a greedy young woman. She tells him that she will marry him if he brings her a fallen star. He goes to where he believes he saw a star fall, and instead finds a mystical girl who he winds up having to protect from an evil witch. She began to fall for the young man, and just as I worried that he would never realize he had feelings for her in return, I felt something touch my hand. I froze, uncertain of whether or not Christian had accidentally brushed into me while searching for his drink, but slowly looked down at my hand. His hand was on top of mine, perfectly encapsulating it against the armrest I had been relaxing on. I felt my heart warm at the gesture and, smiling, I looked back up at the theater, slowly lacing my fingers through his. He noticed my reaction, and I felt his fingers curl, grasping my hand in his. The move would have been considered silly, or even childish by many of the girls my age, including Kate. But, for me, this simple gesture was the sweetest, most charming move he could have made in that theater that day. I knew now that, regardless of whether or not I had a moment of shyness, I wanted him to kiss me. I craved it now. This simply sweet, endearing, sexy man had been an absolute gentleman, and I trusted whatever move he made from here on out. There wasn't even the slightest notion in my mind that he would do anything to hurt me, now or ever. I wasn't afraid anymore - I was ready.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I got so much writing done over the weekend that I have chapters to post every morning before I leave for work! I hope I can keep up with it like this so that we don't have to go through any 'long' stretches between story updates! Anyway, thank you to all of A.N.A.'s followers (I hadn't intended the anagram when I named the story - isn't it cool how that worked out?), the favorites, and especially the reviewers. Follows and favorites tell me that the story is liked, but reviews tell me when it's especially good, when there's something you do (or don't) want to see, or if there's something I can improve on. So, please, if you can take two seconds to write a review, even if it's to cheer me on to the next chapter, I would love to hear from more of you! Have a good Monday!

WordsInStitches


	6. Chapter 6

When we finally stepped out of the movie theater, the sky was a rosy hue as the sun was midway through setting. I was giddy and gleeful as we stepped onto the sidewalk, still hand in hand. Christian watched me, smirking.

"Did you like the movie?" he asked. I smiled at him, nodding.

"It was good pick." I replied honestly, feeling elated. I had been on a high since he had curled his fingers with mine. I didn't want to come back down.

"I thought you might like it." he replied, "It was based on a book."

"It was?" I asked, not much into reading fantasy novels. "I'll have to look for the book sometime."

"You mean you didn't know that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you were an English major with a passion for literature."

"I am," I replied, still smiling, "Though I'm not too fond of fantasy fiction."

Christian paused, and chuckled. "Let me guess, you're into classical fiction. Bronte, if I could be more specific."

I laughed at his haughty assumption. "In part," I admitted; "Though I've always had the biggest soft spot for Hardy." In reply, he simply shook his head. I wondered what he wasn't saying, but more importantly, I also wondered where he was leading me.

Down the block and around the corner was a tavern. Music poured out the front door enticingly, drawing us closer. Peering in, we could see that a band was playing, but it was hard to see with all of the college students piled inside. I hesitated, not wanting to be eaten alive in such a crowd, but not wanting Christian to leave me behind. He seemed to sense my now curbed interest, and pulled me back toward the theater.

"Looks too busy in there for my taste." he said simply, and I breathed a sigh of relief, keeping with his pace.

"I definitely agree." I added, happy to be following him wherever we may go next.

Taking me to the parking garage by the theater, we got to Christian's car and got in. He began driving, and in a matter of minutes, we were pulling up at Magnuson Park. When we got out, we began walking slowly, almost aimlessly. It was quiet for a moment, until I decided to break the silence.

"You promised last night that you would tell me more about yourself." I reminded him.

Christian stopped walking and looked at me, slightly annoyed. "There isn't really anything to know."

"There isn't?" I echoed curiously, "There isn't really anything interesting about me, but I indulged your curiosity at dinner last night."

"Despite what you may think, Miss Steele," he replied, chuckling, "You are a fascinating person."

Fascinating? No one had ever described me as fascinating before. Another new experience to add to the list of firsts I was experiencing with the appealing Mr. Grey. "It's all a matter of perspective, Mr. Grey." I replied, smirking. "So, really, I can say the same about you."

"But unlike what I know about you, Miss Steele, you barely know anything about me."

I was beginning to feel frustrated. "You know, Christian, the purpose of going on a date with someone is to learn more about them. By refusing to tell me anything about yourself, you're defeating the entire purpose of the date, and in reality, the date is over. So, unless you have something to say, I have no choice but to bid you good night and find a cab to take me home."

His demeanor changed with my response, and he gripped my hand tighter. "Don't go." he plead quietly, his voice the low rumble that made me melt to my core.

"Then talk to me." I insisted, my resolve wavering.

Christian sighed. After a long pause, he conceded and began to speak.

"I don't usually like to talk much about my life." he said quietly, looking out at the lake. "There have been good times, but more so, bad; especially more recently. It seems like the people that should care about me most have been the ones to hurt me, and it's...difficult for me to let anyone in, even when they've proven trustworthy." Another pause. "My childhood was difficult enough. I really would rather not get into the details, but my mother was more concerned about her wants and needs than being a mother to her son. She showed her selfishness on several occasions. I finally got away when I was 13, when she got in trouble with the law, and lost her rights. I lived in foster care for about a year before my adoptive parents found me and brought me home. I still have trouble trusting them, and they have yet to show me any reason not to. Since my so-called mother, I've only come close to trusting one other person, and that turned into hell on earth. Since that nightmarish experience, I really haven't had the desire to be close to someone...at least, not until…" His voice trailed off as his grey eyes, full of sadness and pain, gazed into mine, and I knew what he meant without saying it.

"I promise that I'm no demon." I said softly, feeling the hurt that radiated from him. "If and when you ever decide to talk to me about it, I'll be right here to listen."

The pink sky was beginning to grow dusky; the brilliant bright blush dimming as deep, dark blue and grey black mixed in from above. A few stars began to appear, enough to announce that twilight was upon us. Once again, Christian laced his fingers between mine, and I curled my fingers around his. We began walking again, making our way over to the boat launch, right on the lake, and then he stopped. I stopped beside him, looking at him briefly before looking out at the water. The lake looked peaceful; like glass. There wasn't a breath of wind in the air, though it was becoming noticeably cooler as the sun disappeared below the horizon. Goosebumps prickled up on my arms, and I cursed myself for being unprepared and not having a sweater with me.

Christian noticed the goosebumps on my arms and sighed. "You don't own a jacket by any chance, do you Miss Steele?" he asked, almost condescendingly.

"Of course I do!" I defended, a bit offended at his misguided observation. After a pause, I admitted, "I just didn't bring one with me…"

Christian chuckled, amused by my confession. "Well, unfortunately, I didn't bring one with me tonight, either." he replied, pulling me closer. I fell into his arms almost naturally, like I was made to be surrounded by him; to compliment him, be a part of him. It was so strange how, in such a short time, I find myself so consumed by him; and yet, it didn't seem like that short of a time at all. His hands moved up and down slowly on my arms, smoothing the goosebumps that tried to defy the warmth he spread in my skin. I rested my cheek against his chest, reveling in the feeling of his heartbeat faintly beating inside my head. The rhythm was soothing, and I felt so at ease as I listened to the steady thump. Of course, the warmth from his body made the goosebumps dissipate, and I inwardly cursed as he stopped rubbing my arms. I was certain he would hold me at arm's length again, but he didn't. Instead, he rested his chin on the top of my head, wrapping his arms around me tighter, and I sighed happily, biting my lip. In that moment, nothing could have felt more comforting, completing, and natural than being wrapped in Christian Grey's arms. The silence was so peaceful that I jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.

"There's something about me that you should know, Anastasia." he said softly, hesitating as he visibly struggled to find the words to explain what he was thinking. It almost hurt when he moved me, making me take a step back to look into his eyes once more.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you aren't comfortable." I insisted, not wanting him for force himself to open up and possibly cause himself harm in doing so. I meant what I had said when I told him I was willing to wait for him to feel comfortable with confiding in me.

"No, Ana, this is different; I need to tell you this." he insisted. He reached up and cupped my cheek, and I closed my eyes as I leaned into his caress. Absentmindedly, I bit my lip, and jumped when I realized what I was doing. I opened my eyes, releasing my lip and saw a mixed expression of pain and longing in his eyes. I couldn't understand why something so simple seemed to affect him so much, but before I could think much more of it, he spoke again.

"Since the first moment I laid eyes on you, something about you has...drawn me to stay near you." He paused again, trying to find a way to explain more clearly what he meant by this. "You've completely mesmerized me, with your innocence, your sweetness, your playfulness, and your beauty. I don't completely understand it myself, but...I feel like I'm supposed to know you; as though there's a reason our paths have crossed. Does that make any sense, or do I sound like a madman?"

I felt dumbstruck as I listened to him, and what he thought of me. Most of all, I wasn't the only one that felt drawn to him by some hidden force. He felt the same pull, as though something invisible really was drawing us together for reasons unknown to either of us. I could hardly believe that this handsome, confident man was standing before me, telling me that he was just as fascinated by me as I was of him. It took a moment for me to find my voice, but just as he began to seem concerned by my silence, I took a breath.

"If you're crazy, then I am, too." I said softly. "I thought I was the only one that felt like they were being dragged by a magnet."

His eyes widened at my answer, and he reached out once more to caress my cheek. "You beautiful girl." he murmured, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. I felt a warmth surge through me from my head down to my toes, which curled slightly in innocent ecstasy. He pulled back and tilted my chin as he had before, locking his flashing grey eyes with my own deep blue ones. I could hear my thoughts nearly screaming through my gaze. _Kiss me._

Either he was psychic, or he had been thinking the exact thing I had, because the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, and my entire body felt electrified.

I'd had first kisses before that night on more than one occasion. I may have been unexperienced in relationships, but it hadn't stopped a few guys from taking charge of some awkward situations by making a move on me. Each of those experiences had been good and bad in their own ways, but they all disappeared in comparison to the moment when Christian Grey kissed me for the first time. Never had I ever felt every nerve ending in my body buzz as though I was being charged with electricity, but I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and my heart pitter pattered excitedly as though it had discovered a missing piece that it so desperately needed. That kiss was a turning point in my life, as odd as it may seem. From that point on, if I ever felt doubt, or I needed something magnificent to take me to my happy place in hard times, I would close my eyes and remember that moment by Lake Washington, when Christian and I shared our first kiss.

If I had felt a magnetic pull to him before we kissed, I felt an even stronger force drawing me in afterward. It was as if the kiss had been magic; creating a permanent bond that would keep our souls together for life, regardless of where our lives lead.

When we pulled away from one another, he studied my expression for a moment, his eyes radiating with surprise, confusion, but mostly affection. He caressed my cheek once more, looking into my eyes and murmuring, "You beguile me, Anastasia…" before breaking from the spell we had created, stepping away.

His move to walk away puzzled me and, confused, I trotted off after him, catching up after only a moment. I opened my mouth to say something, but found myself struggling with words. What could I possibly say now that wouldn't sound awkward, or out of place? He almost seemed distant now; his hands in his pockets and his eyes straight ahead as we walked. I studied his face as we walked, trying to make some sense of his sudden change in demeanor, but only found myself more confused, irritated, and a little hurt.

We made it back to the car, and he opened the door for me, waiting patiently for me to sit. I did so, continuing to watch him as he came around the front of the car and sat down beside me. He closed the door, and hesitated; his keys frozen in his hand. He seemed to be thinking about what had just happened, and I couldn't tell if he was regretting the moment or missing it.

"Christian…" I started, softly.

My voice seemed to snap him from his reverie. He reached over and pulled me closer to him, leaning over and kissing me again. The sudden action lit my soul on fire, and I found myself reaching up to weave my fingers through his hair, pulling on it gently as I fought to gain control. I kissed back fiercely; a force previously unknown to me now awakened, and I kissed him again before he had the chance to even consider ending the kiss. He mirrored my move and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling hard enough for it to smart, but not enough to truly hurt. He returned my kiss with another fiercer one, and after a few minutes, he suddenly let me go, pulling away from me quickly to sit back in his seat. He took a deep breath and sighed as I sat back in my own seat, gasping for air, biting my lip as I studied him in an attempt to figure out what was on his mind now. Part of me knew what had to be on his mind, but I didn't want to think of him as some tramp, looking for a quick piece of ass. It reminded me too much of Jose...the thought made me wince in my seat. I released the bite on my lip before Christian finally looked back at me, a fire burning in his eyes.

"I hope you don't think I'm coming on to you or moving too fast." he said, almost apologetically. "It just...took a moment for me to regain my wits."

I blushed but smiled, knowing that I had tried to stop him from ending our passionate moment. I had wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through his hair the first time I saw him, and now I had done it, and found another aspect that magnetized me toward him.

"I didn't exactly help you keep your wits about you." I admitted, shy yet proud. I felt myself consumed by a glow, and the mental picture of myself as a tempting , sensual goddess came to mind, reveling as she basked in golden sunlight.

Christian chuckled thoughtfully, seemingly replaying the moment in his mind when I grabbed his hair. "No, I suppose you didn't." he agreed, amused at my confession. The cold, frozen aura in the car seemed to thaw now, and he reached forward to start the car.

"Well," he continued, "I think we've gotten into enough mischief for one evening. How about I take you home?"

I was somewhat disappointed that the night was ending just as night was falling, but he made an accurate point - our second date had been eventful, to say the least. I watched the highway as he took me back home, occasionally glancing over at Christian, marvelling at what had transpired in such a short time. I couldn't believe that such a stunning man, so handsome and charming, was interested in someone as simple as dull as...well, me. It seemed as though we were meant to balance one another; his magnificence brought to a more earthly level by my average everything. I decided that I didn't want to keep thinking about it, because I felt so incredibly lucky to hold his interest in the first place, and the last thing I wanted to do was over analyze it and scare him away. I glanced over at him again, and I caught him glancing back at me from the corner of his eye. He smiled his crooked smile in a way that made me think he saved that special smile just for me, and I smiled back warmly, feeling special for the first time in a long time.

We pulled up to the front of my apartment building, and Christian put the car in park. He got out and came around to my door, opening it for me so I could step out. I was surprised by the gesture as he hadn't done this for me at the end of our last date. I wondered what made him want to open my door for me, and soon saw for myself what his motivation had been - he encircled my waist with his arms, looked down into my eyes once more, and kissed me softly, sweetly, and lingeringly. My cheeks turned rosy as my heart fluttered, the ethereal feeling consuming me once more.

"Good night, Anastasia." he said softly, so innocently. It sent a shiver down my spine, and it was all I could do not to beg him to stay.

"Good night, Christian." I replied, just as softly, and he slowly let me go. He took a few steps back, his eyes still on me, before he turned and walked the rest of the way back to his car. Getting in, he hesitated one last time, waving at me as he waited to see me go inside the building.

I was still blushing as I waved back shyly, turning to walk up the front steps to the apartment building. I opened the door and stepped inside the breezeway, taking an extra moment to look out the window to steal one last glance of Christian before he drove away. When he disappeared from sight, I leaned back against the wall and tilted my head back, closing my eyes and biting my lip as I sighed happily. I knew what these feelings meant. I'd felt sad excuses for love in the past, and each paled in comparison to this. I wasn't sure what about Christian Grey made everything I felt so intense, but something about him was different than anyone else I had ever cared for. My thoughts reminded me that Kate was no doubt watching in wait for my return, and I reluctantly ran up the stairs to our floor so I could appease her eager anticipation. I paused briefly at our door, taking a deep breath as I hoped I didn't look too flustered before I opened the door.

Kate was sitting on the sofa, waiting patiently. The twinkle in her eyes told me she had to at least suspect, if not witnessed, our parting outside just moments ago. I put my purse down and slipped off my shoes quietly, walking into the living room as I tried to mute my smile, wondering if my elation was obvious enough.

"So…" Kate said, smirking. "How was your evening?"

"It was...amazing." I admitted breathlessly, unable to contain my happiness.

"I can only imagine." she replied, quickly losing her poise as she jumped up from the sofa. "I told you it was only a matter of time before he kissed you!"

"Oh, God, Kate, you don't even know the half of it!" I breathed, bursting with excitement as I flopped on to the sofa, my knees finally turning to jelly.

Kate shot me a serious look of concern. "What do you mean?!" She asked, looking upset. "You didn't-"

"NO!" I replied, mortified. "God, no! Shit, Kate, do you think I'm easy or something?"

"No, no, no!" Kate insisted, now equally appalled. "I just see how you look when you talk about him, and I saw something about you two just now when he kissed you goodnight. If what I saw wasn't even half of it, I can't even begin to imagine anything more that could possibly be innocent!"

I rolled my eyes at Kate's dirty mind, though truth be told, I knew what she meant. It didn't take Jose very long to start trying to get in my pants after our 'relationship' began. Considering the fact that he was my first boyfriend, and I didn't have much of an understanding of the relationship world, I unfortunately conceded without much resistance. Something about it hadn't felt right to me, though. It wasn't until later that I realized why it had felt wrong. I banished my bad memories from my mind yet again, focusing instead on the good things that had just happened. I began to tell Kate about the movie, when Christian held my hand, and she laughed at the childish innocence of it all, but admitted that she thought it was adorable. I went on to tell her about our trip to Magnuson, but didn't get into our brief conversation about Christian's life. Instead, I focused on our first kiss, and what happened when we got back in the car. Kate's eyes grew wide like saucers as I told her how I found myself overwhelmed by his sudden kiss and, in the moment, took charge and kissed him back, my fingers twisted in his hair.

"Jesus, Ana, you're already hopeless for this guy!" she exclaimed, staring at me like I was an alien. "You'd better be careful, you know?"

"God, Kate, you don't have to remind me!" I shrieked, flushing red. At the risk of implying that she had been 'around', Kate had more dating experience that I did, and those few boyfriends that she'd been with had taught her to be especially careful - and special thanks went to the asshole that nearly got her pregnant. She knew she was more than lucky when the test she took was negative, and it turned out that her period was late because she was under stress from her final assignment for the semester. She broke up with the moron soon after she confirmed that they hadn't procreated, which had been a smart move, considering he soon dropped out after successfully knocking up his next girlfriend. Unfortunately, the experience had been enough to scare the hell out of Kate, and she now looked at most every relationship as a risk of being converted to motherhood. I had heard enough stories about the girls she talked to in her classes during the week who were dating frat boys on campus, and how each of them now seemed to watch what they said around her for fear that they would get a refresher course in sex ed. Considering that I had only dated Jose, and we had broken up shortly after her near nightmare, I had managed to escape the lectures - until now.

"I'm sorry, Ana." she apologized, looking genuinely worried that she had now upset me to the point that I wouldn't talk to her about any future happenings in my relationship. "I just...don't want you to have a scare like I did, that's all. Or worse…"

"I'll be smart, Kate." I replied honestly, trying not to grit my teeth from continuing embarrassment. "But thank you...I know it's because you care about me."

Kate offered a smile of relief. "I'm glad you understand, even though you're obviously embarrassed. That's why you're my best friend."

I smiled back affectionately at my friend, and got up to hug her. "Really, though - while I'm grateful that you care, can you please try to fight the urge to give me the sex talk after every date? I don't know how many times I can handle having to hear the same lecture over and over, especially when I haven't gotten that serious with Christian yet."

Kate laughed. "I'll do my best," she promised, "Though you have to forgive me if one slips in a moment of weakness. I can't keep them all to myself!"

I laughed back. "I'll try not to get too embarrassed." I agreed, and turned to make my way to my room. "Well, I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten anything yet. Are you hungry at all?"

"Truth be told, I didn't eat anything either. I was too anxious to find out how your surprise second date went." Kate admitted, grinning.

"Do you want to order a pizza or something?" I asked, "I'm in the mood to get into my pajamas and have a lazy night."

"I've got the order," Kate said, "You pick out a movie we can watch, and we'll have a date of our own."

I laughed and nodded in agreement, slipping into my room so I could change into my pajamas - yoga pants and a tank top. I looked at my reflection in the mirror on my vanity and studied it for a moment, smoothing my top down my waist and over my hips. My eyes sparkled a brilliant, bright blue in the mirror. My hair seemed to fall around my shoulders and down my back with luster and life, and my figure seemed to have a graceful presence within itself as my curves seemed to stand out and make themselves know. It was as though I had suddenly changed; maybe I wasn't the plain girl I had thought I was, after all. I wondered if I had really changed, or if my outlook was the only thing about me that has shifted. I still couldn't fully comprehend the reason, but I knew one thing - everything about me was changing, and it was all because of Christian Grey.

A/N: Hi again! I'm loving that I can share the next piece of the story with all of you in such a short time, despite being sick as a dog and having to go to work regardless! I'm starting to feel a lot better this morning, and I'm hoping it only keeps getting better from here. Anyway, be sure to keep leaving reviews; I love answering them, though it's a little disappointing to hear from Guest reviewers since I can't personally thank them or even reply to them! So, that said, a certain Guest reviewed yesterday's chapter and brought out a very good point - freelance photographers don't make very much money, do they? It was brought up because of the dress episode, where Kate swore she hadn't bought the dress, and the clerk at the clothing store refused to tell the ladies who was responsible for picking up the tab. We're used to a gesture like this being made by the one and only Christian Grey, but if he has a low-wage job, he can't afford something so costly...right? Something that will be clarified later on, when you least expect it! In the meantime, keep reading and reviewing, and I look forward to hearing your feedback on Chapter Six!

WordsInStitches


	7. Chapter 7

The next few weeks flew by in a happy whirlwind. If I didn't see Christian every day, I was talking to him on the phone, or texting back and forth when I wasn't able to talk. Danielle noticed a difference in my behavior in those weeks following my first two dates with Christian, and while she nitpicked about how distracted I seemed to be at work, she took it in good humor. She seemed to be much more concerned with my happiness than she was in seeing the workaholic I had been before he came into my life.

My coursework was beginning to suffer, but I was too distracted to care. I was young and, dare I think it? in love to concern myself with the lack of motivation I had to complete my assignments, the disinterest in my instructor's lectures and lessons to focus on anything other than a conversation Christian and I had earlier in the day, or the way he had kissed me goodbye in between work and class, or wondering if he would be waiting for me outside of the campus after my class ended. I used to take notes during lectures; now, instead, I sat absentmindedly, chewing on the end of my pen as I daydreamed about the man that had stolen away every rational thought I'd ever had. Kate was right; I was already hopeless. At this rate, I would be lucky to pass my classes for the semester.

I noticed that everyone around me was getting up and leaving the classroom. Gathering my things, I stood up and began to head toward the door. Ms. Gardner stopped me before I could leave.

"Miss Steele, might I have a quick word?" she asked, watching me patiently. I could tell by her expression that whatever she had to say to me was important, and probably not good. I slowly made my way toward her, watching her nervously.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked, bracing myself for whatever message the warning in her tone implied.

"I've noticed that your work has substantially become less detailed, and has become more...scattered. In all honesty, Ana, I'm concerned." She leaned forward in her seat, looking at me like a concerned parent. "Have you been dealing with any trauma recently, or high stress?"

"No, ma'am; not at all." I replied, trying not to smile as I thought of how my life had been completely opposite of the situation she was suggesting.

"Well, I'm worried about the change I'm seeing here, Miss Steele." she repeated, sitting back. "I would hate to see you fail this course. I've spoken with your other professors this semester, and they are all seeing the same change in your work. If you need anything at all; tutoring, help with your work after class, please, don't hesitate to ask any of us. You're a gifted student, Ana; none of us want to see anything hurt that."

I nodded solemnly. "Of course." I replied kindly. "Thank you, Ms. Gardner." I turned away from her desk and walked out the door. I was torn by her words. On one hand, I didn't want to fail my classes and risk everything I had been working for. But I also couldn't focus on anything but Christian. Maybe I needed to force myself to straighten out my priorities. At least, long enough to finish my classes. After all, if I was such a good student, how much could it hurt for me to take the next semester off from college? Most of the other students I knew, Kate included, opted out of summer semester courses. It couldn't be so bad to do the same. I resolved then and there in the halls of the university that I would put more effort into my work, and reward myself in a couple of short weeks with an entire semester off, where I could focus on work and Christian.

I stepped outside into the bright orange hue of the evening sunset; the warmth reminding me of the comfort I felt when I was curled up in a blanket with a good book. The weather was warming up, and summer would soon be here. I smiled at the coming return of warmer weather; I could only handle the cold for so long before I felt my bones turn to ice. Something else warmed me at that moment as well; Christian standing outside, waiting for me. I smiled welcomingly, walking faster toward him. I could feel my long hair bouncing against my shoulder blades, a hitch in my step as I drew closer to where he stood, and he wrapped an arm around me, kissing my forehead when I stopped in front of him.

"Miss Steele," he greeted me playfully, swinging me to his side before guiding me around to the passenger side of the car. "How was your class?"

"Long." I replied, groaning. "I'm happy to be free."

Christian chuckled. "As am I." he replied, looking at me happily with his gleaming, grey eyes. "I'm afraid I might be disappointing you tonight, though."

I furrowed my brow, not understanding what he meant. "Why is that?" I asked, worried.

"My brother is in town, and he wanted me to go out with him and see some sights." he replied, looking over at me briefly. He saw my expression and frowned. "Please don't look so crushed. It's only for one night."

"How long is he in town?" I asked.

"For a week." he replied, focusing on the road as he took the familiar route to my apartment. "Usually, he's in New York; he works for a company there that he's quite valuable to, but he decided to use a week of his vacation time to drop in on his little brother; which is surprising considering our life paths are night and day in comparison."

"Why should that make a difference?" I asked curiously, unable to fathom anyone treating Christian differently for his profession, unless they were a fan of his work like Kate.

"You would have to know my family." he replied absentmindedly, looking at me and catching a flash of hurt spread across my face. "Which you will," he added quickly, reaching over and squeezing my hand. "I promise, you'll meet Elliot before he goes back to the East Coast. But, for tonight, I promised him a brother-to-brother night."

I sighed weakly, nodding. "I understand." I said. "At least I got to see you for a few minutes."

Christian smiled. "That's just like you to look at the positives of the situation." he admired, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. "I'll plan a night where you can come with us and meet him, I promise. In the meantime, don't get too lonely. I'll talk to you again soon."

It was then that I realized we were already at my apartment. Disappointed, I nodded again and leaned over, giving him a quick kiss before turning to let myself out of the car. He held on to me for a moment, making the kiss linger before letting me leave.

"Don't think for a moment that I wouldn't rather be spending my evening with you," he said softly, and I knew without question that he was being honest. My expression lightened as I smiled gently at him, and I reached for the door handle.

"Good night." I said quietly, slipping out of the car and walking to the front door. As always, he waited for me to disappear inside the building before he drove off into the night. I sighed. Hopefully, Kate wasn't busy tonight. I didn't want to wind up spending the night alone like an old spinster. I was alarmed when I walked in and saw that Kate was dressed up in a sequined number that only made the journey halfway down her thighs, avoiding her knees. Her hair was pulled back in a wavy pile on top of her head, and she had given herself a makeover and accessorized with a pair of long, golden earrings, and a dramatic necklace that looked more like an artistic masterpiece laying against her collarbone.

"Ana!" she exclaimed, as surprised as I was. "I didn't think you'd be coming home this early - what happened?"

"Nothing," I replied quickly, sensing that she thought Christian and I might have had a falling out. "It's just that Christian's brother is in town, and he promised that the two of them would go out tonight by themselves. So here I am."

"Well, damn." she replied pensively. "I figured I was going to be alone tonight, and didn't feel like being a caveman on a Friday. I was getting ready to go to the club and tear up the dance floor." Suddenly, her eyes began to sparkle, and I knew what she was thinking. "Come with me." she said.

I shook my head, hesitant. "You know I'm not big on going to clubs." I told her. "I'm not much of a dancer, and I can't drink yet."

Kate's expression was mischievous. "I know the doorman." she said, "We can fix that."

I was divided. I didn't really like the club scene, but I didn't want to be alone, and Kate looked like she wouldn't be swayed from her plans. I could only imagine how long it had taken her to get ready.

"Okay…" I said slowly, "I'll go - but only if you promise that we can leave if I get uncomfortable."

Kate grinned wickedly. "Deal." she agreed, without a second thought. "Now, let's hurry up and get you ready to go. You're going to dress to impress!"

Before I knew it, Kate had convinced me to slip a silver getup that she had hidden in her closet, and paired up with with a strappy pair of silver sandalled heels to match. In a flash, she did my makeup to match the glamor of our sparkling ensembles, and my hair was teased and moussed to look like I'd already been dancing. I felt a little awkward dressing like this, but when we made it out to the club, I felt like I would have stood out like a sore thumb if I had dressed more within my comfort level. When we reached the doorman, he looked at Kate and smiled with familiarity.

"Hey Kavanaugh," he said casually, "Two bands?"

"Bingo." she replied playfully, winking at the man.

Smiling, he slipped a pair of paper bands around our wrists. "You ladies have fun." he said, winking as we walked past him inside the building.

The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think, let alone Kate's directions to follow her to the bar. The dance floor was crowded with girls that looked like they could all be related to Kate, and guys who were practically salivating as they snuck in to share dances with them. I shook my head at the animalistic display and make my way behind Kate to the bar.

"Two cosmos, please!" she shouted to the bartender, who glanced down and saw the pair of bands. Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded and mixed up the drinks.

"I don't know how you persuaded me to come here." I admitted out loud, trying to make myself heard over the music.

"Come on, Steele, you know you like it here!" Kate shouted back, "Just give yourself a few minutes to adjust. Trust me!"

Reluctantly, I picked up the glass placed before me on the counter and took a sip. The drink was crisp, sweet, and slightly burned from the alcohol mixed in it. I sighed and decided to give Kate the benefit of the doubt - what was the worst that could happen?

Three cosmos later, and I was with Kate on the dance floor, laughing and swaying to the music like I was addicted. I could feel the bass thumping through my body, and the music called to me as I moved involuntarily. The alcohol had to have lowered my inhibitions, since I highly doubted I would have gone out on the dance floor if I had still been sober. I danced with Kate mindlessly, feeling euphoric as I let the music take over me, and I closed my eyes to let it fill me completely. The next thing I knew, I felt an arm snake its way around me, guiding my movement to mirror the person the arm belonged to. I felt confused by the contact, but didn't want to stop dancing, so I ignored the funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and finished dancing to the song, taking the transition to the next beat as my cue to return to the bar for another drink. It wasn't until I left the dance floor that I saw my dance partner, who followed me off of the floor eagerly.

"Wow, Ana; it feels like it's been ages!" Jose said, catching his breath from all the dancing he had been doing. "You look incredible. Damn."

I knit my brows together furiously as I glared at his smug expression. "What are you doing here?" I asked angrily.

"It's a free country." he replied, ordering a drink. "Never in a million years would I have thought I would see Ana Steele at a club. Looks like you've made some changes since you left. Pretty good ones, from what I'm seeing." He eyeballed me and let his gaze paint me from head to toe, lingering over his favorite parts. I shuddered involuntarily at the action.

If looks could kill, I would have happily killed him in a heartbeat. "You haven't changed at all, unfortunately." I snapped, turning to the bartender and ordering my fourth cosmo.

Jose leaned forward into my personal space, his lips right beside my ear. "Last I checked, you haven't had your 21st birthday yet." he crooned, pulling back to give me a mischievous grin.

"What about it?" I spat, wishing I could just make him go away.

"I could bust you in a heartbeat." he said pensively, playing with his glass of rum and coke. "That wouldn't look too good, would it?"

"You wouldn't." I hissed, my anger more pronounced as a result of my blind hatred of the asshole before me and the increased inhibitions of the alcohol already in my system. My cosmo was set on the counter beside me, but I focused my attention on glaring at Jose, trying to intimidate him into backing down. Instead, he simply laughed.

"I might." he replied, "Unless you want to persuade me otherwise." He brushed his fingers against my arm, and I flinched. Ashamed that I had shown my hand and proved my bluff, I reached for my drink, hoping it would bring me more courage.

"What makes you think I would be so desperate?" I asked, hoping that he would forget my foolish reaction and not realize that I was terrified. I tried to scan the crowd for Kate, but she was buried somewhere within the sea of dancers, and couldn't even see the bar; let alone, Jose and myself.

"Something tells me you wouldn't want the university catch wind that they have an underage student getting drunk near the campus." he said coyly, and my gut sank. Or wrenched. I wasn't sure which. I opened my mouth wordlessly, fighting to find a confident response to quash his upper hand in the conversation. I couldn't find one. He stepped forward and slipped his arm around me once again.

"Ana, come on." he cooed. "Tell me you didn't feel something out there just now. You know you'll always be mine."

I felt my heart begin to race with panic as I felt the walls closing in on me, and I fought to catch my breath. I wasn't able to keep my confident facade any longer, and I searched painstakingly for a sign of Kate. She was still nowhere to be found. I was running out of options. I could kick Jose and run out of the club, but then I would have to find a way home by myself, and with the number of people taking cabs home just outside, my chances of escaping before Jose could catch up was slim at best. My other option was to give in to him and let him destroy me once again; something that my heart couldn't take. I didn't want to end up like this; why did I let Kate convince me to come here?!

Suddenly, I felt Jose's arm move off of me, and a voice behind me made me breath a sigh of relief. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he echoed back, and I looked over my shoulder in excitement and fear.

"I'm Anastasia's boyfriend." Christian said, glaring at Jose like he was a maggot as he wrapped his arm protectively around my waist. He drew me close to him, and I felt like I was invincible. My confidence returned as I looked at Jose with pride; thankful for whatever it was that had brought Christian to me in that moment.

"Bullshit." he replied, "That's impossible. She hasn't dated anyone else in months - no way she's with you!"

" I beg to differ." Christian insisted sternly, his eyes burning intensely as he seemed to be restraining himself from launching an attack on Jose, who looked shocked and startled. "Now, Ana might not be looking for a scene, but I would be more than happy to indulge in one if you continue to come on to my girlfriend, so unless you want to show me what you're made of, I suggest you find another hole to crawl in."

Jose's jaw set firmly, and his fists balled up tightly, but he made no move forward. He and Christian were in a stare down, and after a long moment, Jose conceded, stepping away.

"See ya, Ana." he muttered, slipping off to the dance floor.

I sighed again, relieved, and suddenly weakened. I looked up at Christian, who still looked like he was seething. He glared down at me angrily.

"What the hell was that?!" he asked, smoldering.

I felt my heart sink once again, and stammered to find the words to explain. "I didn't want to be alone," I struggled, "And Kate was going out, and I don't go to the club, but-"

"Never mind that," he snapped, interrupting. "Who the fuck was that? And...are you _drinking_? How did you manage that?!"

I began stammering again, my head swimming around all of his questions as it tried to make sense of why he was angry with me, and how I could make it stop. "My ex; I didn't know he...Kate knows the doorman, and…" I couldn't find the words any longer, and I closed my eyes once more, taking a deep breath. When I opened them again, the room began to sway.

"I'm...you're moving." I mumbled, clutching his shirt. "No...you're spinning."

His eyes widened slightly, and I felt his weight shift. Or was it mine? I felt myself falling, but I didn't know how to catch myself. I gripped his shirt as tightly as I could while my legs failed me, crumbling and folding beneath me; two traitors as I succumbed to the now overpowering effects of the alcohol. The room was becoming a blur. It hurt my eyes so much that I closed them again, and I felt Christian's arms holding me while my head tried to figure out which way was up.

"I'm taking her home." I heard him say to someone, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in his car, moving down the road. Then, all I remembered was darkness.

When my eyes opened again, a blinding light shone in them, and I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut again. I raised my arm to my face so I could attempt to open them again, and I felt a throbbing in my head as I struggled to look around. A wave of confusion overcame me as I saw things that I didn't recognize. It took a moment for my fuzzy brain to come to a conclusion - I was not in my room. I wasn't anywhere I had been before. I sat up and felt a wave of nausea, along as a surge of panic as I wondered how far away I was from a bathroom. Hoping for the best, I scrambled out of bed and out the doorway closest to me. I got lucky; it was a bathroom attached to the bedroom. I grasped the porcelain bowl with what strength I had and braced myself for what I felt coming. My body shook violently as I wretched, and each movement made me regret every drink I'd downed. I was obviously a total lightweight, and combining alcohol with an uncomfortable environment and less than appealing situation was making me pay a hefty price. As I gasped for breath between wretches, I felt someone pull my hair away from my face, loosely holding it behind me as another wave hit me. I was too busy feeling miserable to be embarrassed; at least, until the nausea subsided, and I stopped vomiting. I sat on the bathroom floor, face flushed from my time clinging to the toilet, and I grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiping my face as I avoided looking up at Christian. I could still remember his anger the night before; not just toward Jose. I didn't like the feeling I had as his eyes burned at me furiously. It was like I had betrayed him, and I had only just promised weeks ago that I would always be someone he could trust. I wanted him to open up to me, and after last night's events, I wondered if he would feel like he could share himself with me so intimately.

"Feeling any better?" Christian asked cooly, and I felt my heart sink again.

"A little." I admitted abashedly. I tried to steal a glance of him without him noticing, but he was staring at me intently, and caught the move.

"Ana, what were you thinking?" he asked, interrupting before I had the chance to say anything in reply. "You know what, forget it. I'm not mad that you went out with your friend, I'm even not mad that you had something to drink, even though I'm surprised that someone as smart as you would get blazingly drunk. You deserve the hangover. What I want to know is who the dirtbag I nearly beat to a pulp was." He paused, shaking his head at me as he tried to figure out the answer on his own. "Who the hell was he, Ana?"

I felt my voice crack as I answered him. "My ex." I replied, almost in a whisper.

He ran a hand through his hair as he processed my answer, almost recoiling. "Okay," he said, noticeably struggling to keep his calm. "Then what the fuck was he doing with you? Did he meet you there?"

"NO!" I cried, the accusation stinging me like a slap to the face. "Never in a million years would I want to be near that creep; even if we weren't together!" I paused to regain my composure and fight a wave a nausea that seemed to want to take my attention. I took a slow, deep breath, and began to explain. "I had no idea that Jose was there. I was on the dance floor with Kate, minding my own business, and when I went back to the bar, he followed me."

"So he just happened to be there?" Christian asked skeptically, studying my face to see if there was any hint that I might be bending the truth.

"I swear to you," I said, tears forming in my eyes, "After the things he - never would I ever want to be near him intentionally."

This response seemed to flip a switch in Christian. "What do you mean, 'after the things'? What did he do to you?"

I looked at the floor, feeling dread as an old wound was on the verge of being reopened. "No," I begged, "Please...I don't want to go there right now."

"Anastasia, if he did anything to hurt you…" he started, stopping to let out an exasperated sigh. "It's unfair of me to push you to tell me about your past when I've fought to avoid being equally forthcoming. But after last night, I can't just pretend that it was no big deal." He placed his finger under my chin and lifted my face so that he could look me in the eye. "Tell me what happened. Please."

I could feel myself withdrawing. Everything up to this point had been so perfect. I didn't want to taint it with my messed up relationship. But I knew this was something I wouldn't be able to avoid forever. I also knew that opening up to Christian about my past with Jose would encourage him to open up to me about his own mysterious past that seemed to haunt him. Sighing, I gathered the courage to tell him the story.


	8. Chapter 8

Jose and I had met in our junior year of high school. He had moved to Augusta from Texas with his father, who was in the military. He would joke around about being an army brat, and always seemed at ease regardless of who was around. I always admired how friendly and social he was; his confidence was obvious by the way he could laugh about anything. He had become friends with some of my friends, and we met through get togethers that were randomly thrown together during the weekends. We would all go to the park and play frisbee, or head over to the mall and loiter around the food court, talking about how we wanted so many things, but didn't want to have to get after school jobs. When we got to our senior year, we started talking more about what we wanted to do after high school, and where we wanted to go to college. I remember Jose looking disappointed when I insisted that I was going to go to college in Seattle. I was determined to become a writer. At the time, I hadn't really been interested in dating. I'd been kissed a few random times by boys who shared a class or two with me and stopped me in the courtyard to tell me they thought I was pretty. I never really shared their feelings, though, so when they would ask me out, I would politely decline, and give them an excuse that I was extremely busy, along with the fact that I just wasn't interested in dating right now. They would look disappointed, but it was high school - a week later, they would have a different girl on their arm, and their disappointment was forgotten.

It was a week before homecoming dance, and I remember my girlfriends all giggling excitedly about the dates they had gotten, and the dress shopping they planned to do over the weekend. I listened absentmindedly and nodded, a bit disappointed since it sounded like we wouldn't be sharing our last homecoming as a group. I toyed with the idea of going stag, but I wasn't a fan of standing alone by the punch bowl, giving the other seniors fuel for the gossip mill about my supposedly pathetic scene. Truth be told, I really didn't mind skipping out on the dance altogether. I was content with the idea that I could stay home and tear into one of my favorite novels. But Jose didn't seem to agree with my idea of a fun night. He caught me by the arm one afternoon when I was on my way to my car, and pulled me aside to talk.

"Ana, can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied innocently. I was fairly oblivious to what he was thinking. It was only the beginning of a crash course in lessons learned.

"I was wondering if anyone had asked you to homecoming," he said, "And, if not, I was wondering if you would go with me."

I paused. Jose wanted to take me to homecoming? I wasn't sure if I wanted to go with him; everyone might think we were on a date, and I didn't think of him that way. But I didn't want to hurt my friend's feelings, so I smiled kindly. "I don't, but I will definitely go with you." I replied, happy to avoid upsetting him.

Jose beamed. "Awesome!" he exclaimed; "I'll pick you up next Saturday at 7."

As he ran off, all I could think was that I was being a good friend. I smiled and got into my car, heading home.

That week, I went dress shopping with my friends. They all giggled and cooed while I tried on dress after dress. In between dresses, they would chatter from dressing room to dressing room.

"You know, Ana, Jose has been crushing on you since he first got here." Natalie said matter-of- factly, and I saw a flash of lavender tulle jump from her dressing room over to the room beside hers.

I paused. "Really?" I asked, a bit upset. I wasn't thinking about him like that. I didn't see it in him...but was she right? If so, maybe it was a bad idea to go to the dance with him.

"Definitely." Krista agreed, trying on the lavender gown that Natalie had tossed over. "I totally see it - you two make a _cute_ couple."

Couple. The word made me shiver. "But we aren't a couple." I insisted, pulling a green dress over my shoulders. "We're just friends."

"Oh, honey; you're so blind!" Natalie teased, stepping out of her dressing room to look at her reflection in the wall length mirror. "You'll see Saturday."

She had been right - I shuddered at the memory. Jose had come by my mother's house to pick me up. Naturally, she took a hundred pictures and gushed about my first 'real' dance before letting us leave, for fear we would be late. When we arrived, all of our friends were there, but they were all paired up with dates of their own. It was sad to see that, despite being in the same room, we were no longer a unit. I felt as though a part of my life was dying. Perhaps that feeling had left me vulnerable. Maybe that was why I gave in to Jose. Regardless of the reason, by the time we left the dance, it was dark. Jose drove me back home, but parked outside of my house, looking as though he had something important to say.

"Thank you for taking me to the dance, Jose." I said quietly, feeling as though I still had one friend left. "I had a nice time."

Jose smiled. "So did I, Ana." he replied. He hesitated slightly, but then he leaned forward and swept me in a kiss. I felt a wave of betrayal and confusion as the kiss started fiercely and stopped equally sudden. He looked longingly at me before speaking again.

"I hope you'll say yes next time I ask you out, too." he said huskily, looking at me like I belonged to him.

I froze. My friends had been right - Jose wanted me to be his girlfriend. I didn't want to go to that level with him, but could I break his heart and possibly lose our friendship? After tonight, I wondered if the rest of my friends would even have the time of day for me anymore. I didn't want to lose the same guy who was possibly my last friend. Maybe I could learn to like him as more than just a friend, and maybe I would even fall in love with him. Or maybe he would decide he wasn't as interested in me as he thought and end the relationship as friends. Either way, I went against my better judgement, smiling at him as I spoke the words that would seal my fate.

"You don't have to worry about that." I replied endearingly, "I will always say yes."

I didn't realize how seriously he would take those words until it was too late.

The next few months were filled with crazy classes, school functions, college applications, and dates. Jose would steal kisses from me in the hallway between classes, and I would willingly oblige, waiting for mutual affection to come. Slowly, I began to feel warm and fuzzy when I was around Jose; something my mother called 'puppy love'. She thought it was cute that one of my best friends had become my first boyfriend, and she was all too willing to let me go out on dates with him, wanting to be my confidante whenever I came back home. I would tell her about where we went and what happened while we were out, and she would relive her high school days through my stories; enraptured with the youth that she had lived not so long ago as I experienced it, brand new and bright eyed. I began to notice things about Jose, though; subtle at first, but pronounced enough to make me stop and ponder them.

I remember when I got my acceptance letter to UW in Seattle. My mother and I were so excited by the news that we went out to dinner to celebrate. I called Jose while my mother got ready to tell him the good news.

"You're going to school in Seattle?!" he asked, mortified."

"I told you that was my dream school, Jose." I reminded him, my excitement slightly dulled by his appalling reaction. "It's the best news I could have gotten."

"But where does that leave us?" he asked shakily.

I took a deep breath. "I can call every day." I promised. "I can write, too; and there will be holidays when I come home to visit, and we can see each other. It won't be that bad; I promise."

This didn't seem to reassure him. "It's not enough." he insisted, and before I could offer him more reassurance, he hung up on me.

Jose's reaction to the news of my acceptance to UW put a damper on my mood as my mother and I went out. I picked at my dinner quietly, unable to understand why he couldn't be happy for me. He was my boyfriend; he was supposed to be happy when something good happened to me. I was happy whenever something he wanted happened for him. The lack of balance didn't add up, and I felt frustrated; my appetite missing in action.

My mother saw my distress and tried to reassure me. "He's just in shock, honey." she insisted, offering me a calm smile. "He'll come around. Be happy; you earned it."

I continued to pick at my food, offering her a weak smile in return. I hoped she was right.

Jose avoided me for the next few days. I wondered if he was planning on breaking up with me because of my choice to go to Washington for college, and I realized that I would actually be pretty hurt if he chose to dump me now. I had become attached to him; he was my only friend now, and my first boyfriend. If he left me because of school, I wasn't sure I would be able to start my first semester with the same excitement I'd once had in anticipating the new chapter of my life. Just as I began to think I was single, Jose grabbed me in the hallway, nearly a week after our last phone call.

"Ana, I have some fantastic news." he said, beaming. He held a paper in his hand, which he quickly thrust into mine. Confused, I unfolded it and read what was printed on the page.

"I'm going to UW, too." he said excitedly.

I felt uneasy by his sudden acceptance and change in plans. He had always mentioned that he wanted to go to college back in Texas, because it had been the only place that felt most like a home to him. What made him change his mind now? Didn't he believe me when I told him I wouldn't forget about him? The next couple of months were filled with plans Jose had for us when we got to Washington - seeing sites like the Space Needle, getting an apartment together, planning our schedules so that we could share classes and leave the campus at the same time. We would never have to be apart. His need to be near me at all times began to feel alarming, but I reassured myself that it was excitement and a high from planning ahead, and once we got there, things would settle down.

High school graduation was as eventful as any other high school graduation. Valedictorian speech, cheers from the crowd as familiar faces came forward and accepted their diplomas, camera flashes, tissues flying, hugs everywhere you looked, and classmates coming together to promise to never lose touch, even though we all knew we all would. That night, the senior class had one last party planned, and of course, we attended. The parents turned a blind eye when the keg was set up, and played along in a few rounds of beer pong as though they had forgotten how young their children were. No one cared - it was graduation, and spirits were high. People started disappearing, and before I knew it, Jose was pulling me toward the car.

"Let's get out of here." he said, dragging me away from the party. We got in his car and drove to a quiet part of town that I had never before visited; only heard of. I felt my scalp prickle as I realized that he brought me to lover's lane, and I knew what he wanted.

"We're high school graduates now." he said firmly, looking at me as he traced my jawline with his fingertips. "We're about to go to college across the country and live together. We're growing up." He stopped his motions and drilled into me with his deep, dark eyes possessively. "Ana, we've been dating for five months now. It's time to decide where you want to go with our relationship." He leaned over and kissed me roughly, placing his hand on the inside of my thigh. I flinched at his touch, which only made him grip my thigh, willing it to stay put.

"You can't be a virgin forever, Ana." he insisted, looking me over like a predator looked over its prey. "Don't you trust me to treat you right?"

My brain told me that I wasn't ready for this; that despite my feelings, I didn't want to take this step with Jose. I opened my mouth to tell him I didn't want this, and even tell him that I wasn't sure about our relationship anymore, but before I could speak, he crushed my lips with his own and forced his tongue into my mouth. He rubbed my thigh sensually, and despite my thoughts, my body responded. I found myself confused as I was positive I didn't want to do this, but my body seemed to betray me; responding in all the right ways. Ignoring my expression, Jose chose to focus on the way my body seemed to conform to his motions, and he took over eagerly, focused only on a means to an end.

That was the night that I lost my virginity, and even now, I still couldn't come to terms with it. When I had told Kate about it later on, she lost it and insisted that I had been raped; but I wasn't so sure. I never actually said 'no' when it happened...and, yet, I hadn't wanted to sleep with him, regardless of what actually happened. I didn't try to fight him, I didn't physically resist; but I zoned out once my clothes came off. Kate seemed convinced that it was enough. But I didn't want to think of myself as a victim like that. Instead, I tried to tell myself that I just hadn't been into it, and that it was okay. But that wasn't the worst of it all.

Summer blew past us like a blink of an eye. Jose and I both worked summer jobs to save money for our expenses for the trip to Seattle, and would see each other in the evenings after our shifts. He took me to Lover's Lane several more times, and each time was much like the first night. My brain would shut down as my body would respond involuntarily, and I would lose focus as the world became a blur, followed by silence. Jose would dote on me and shower me with affection afterward, making me feel like I was special to him because I cared about him enough to fulfill his needs. But something about it continued to gnaw at me. I looked forward to the start of our fall semester, hoping that our schedules would be more busy, and I could still be Jose's caring girlfriend without having to give myself to him so much. Part of me secretly hoped that he would meet a new girl and leave me, so that I could avoid having to give myself to him at all anymore. It was becoming emotionally draining to the point that my own mother noticed a change in me.

"Ana, what's wrong, honey?" she asked one rainy afternoon after Jose dropped me off at home. We had just left Lover's Lane, and I was still trying to regain my grasp on the world around me.

"Nothing, Mom." I said quietly, mustering a weak smile. "Just nervous about school. It's only a few weeks away."

"Oh, baby…" she whimpered, walking over to me and pulling me into a hug. "I'm going to miss you, too. But I know you'll keep in touch, and you'll come back to visit for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You'll have holiday break before you know it! And I'll be fine. Promise."

Her sense of confidence made me envious. So much had already changed right under her nose. Who knew what else could possibly change once I was on the other side of the country? "Thanks, Mom." I replied, misty-eyed as I tried not to think about what other changes might be waiting for me in Seattle.

It was no time at all before I found myself boarding a plane with Jose, ready to start the next chapter of our lives at college. I looked out the window one last time at Georgia, and felt hurt that the excitement I'd always felt about this day was now absent. I was determined to go through with it, though - I had worked too hard to turn back now. I would be the best student UW had ever seen, and I would graduate with honors and start my career in no time.

I laughed at the memory. If I had known then what I knew now, I probably would have jumped off of the plane, screaming for dear life.

Our first semester at UW had been partly as I had hoped, and partly as I feared. I poured my soul into my courses and assignments, and Jose casually seemed to get through each class without much difficulty or concern. His parents had been generous enough to cover living expenses so that their son wouldn't have to work in between classes. Being his girlfriend, my cost of living was also covered, which I was grateful for. It also made me feel trapped. The last thing I wanted to do was run back home, but Jose had become even more suffocating once the semester started; mirroring my class schedule, following me around campus for everything, including the bathroom, where he would wait outside the door for me to return, and even dictating when I could work on my assignments. It was always dependant around when he wanted my attention, and I always complied, wanting to avoid any confrontation. My mom would call, and he would take away my phone, insisting I could call her back later. When I did, he would sit beside me, listening to the conversation. My mother could hear something different about my voice, and would ask if I was okay. I would have to fight as hard as I could to sound more reassuring as I promised to come visit soon, but with each school break, we never seemed to have any money for plane tickets to go back. Eventually, Jose's promises of letting me call my mother back became empty, and I would catch glimpses of my notifications where I had multiple missed calls and voicemails. Whenever I saw this, he would grab the phone and erase everything. It got to the point where he changed my number, keeping my phone with him unless I had an emergency, which I never had. I felt as though I was shut off from the world. I felt alone.

One afternoon, toward the end of our first year, we had just gotten back from class. I set all but one of my textbooks on the table, taking the lone book in my arms to the sofa. I opened it, and began reading the material I needed for my assignment. Jose sat down beside me and began kissing on my neck; his usual signal that it was his time for attention. I was tired of this game. I had never been forceful before, but this had been the last straw, and I was no longer in the mood to give in peacefully.

"Not now, Jose." I mumbled, focusing on the printed page.

I felt his frame become rigid as the kisses stopped. "What?"

"I said no, Jose." I repeated calmly, adding venomously, "Or do you not remember what that word means, considering you've never heard it before?"

There was a moment of silence before he grabbed my jaw and crushed me with a kiss. He pressed his body against mine as he ripped the book out of my hands.

"Damn, baby, that's hot." he said, sounding fake as he tried to play off my resistance. "Say it again."

I pushed him off of me and fought to stand up. "I'm serious, Jose." I said sternly, not playing in the slightest. "I'm trying to study."

I could see the fire burning in his eyes before he reacted. It was foreboding, and my brain tried to predict his reaction. I could have never comprehended what he did next.

"So am I." he growled, grabbing my wrists. "You're mine, and if I want your attention, I'll get it!"

"No!" I yelled, "Stop it!"

He flung me down on the sofa and pinned me under his body weight, pulling off my shirt. "You belong to me," he barked, "And if I want to fuck you, I'll fuck you, and the only words that had better leave your mouth are you asking me how I want it."

"No!" I shrieked, terrified by his sudden change in demeanor, the tone of his voice, and the carnal look in his eyes as he ripped his own shirt off and flung it to the other end of the room. "I don't want this! Stop; _please!_"

My cries fell on deaf ears. As he tore viciously at my clothes, I tried my best to fade out as I had before, to ignore what I was letting him do to my body, but the pain, emotionally and physically, were too much to ignore. A part of my soul died that afternoon, but from it came a willpower that I had never felt before. I was no longer concerned with Jose's feelings; I didn't care if I broke his heart. I was done.

That night, I packed my things. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew I wouldn't stay with him another night. As I gathered my bags and made my way to the door, I heard him call after me.

"Ana, where the hell do you think you are going?" he demanded.

"That's none of your concern anymore." I replied icily, staring him down as I refused to cry. "This _relationship_ \- it's over. I don't belong to you anymore."

Jose took a step forward to stop me. "_DON'T._" I growled at him "Don't you come _near_ me."

"Look, Ana, I'm sorry, okay?" he said, and I could tell he was feigning his apologetic demeanor. "I just - couldn't control myself. It'll never happen again, I swear. Just please...don't go."

I wanted to believe him, truly. But my gut instinct told me that he was only trying to subdue me so that he could have his way, and I wasn't about to make another mistake by ignoring my gut.

"No, Jose." I insisted coldly. "You fucked up, royally. You don't get a second chance after this. You really crossed the line. Don't _ever_ talk to me again. Ever. If you disrespect my wishes, so help me, I will go to the police and tell them that you raped me."

Jose froze in fear. "But, I didn't...you're my girlfriend, Ana; that isn't rape."

"It became rape the moment I said 'no', you jackass." I replied confidently, and he could see in my eyes that I was dead serious. He took a step back, reaching to the kitchen counter before coming forward once more. I stepped back, but he held out my phone, and I hesitated.

"You'll need this back." he said quietly, hurt. Maybe he hadn't fully realized the monster that had been in waiting within himself. Maybe he was as shocked and hurt as I was. I hoped it meant that he wouldn't do anything crazy and would leave me alone as I asked. I snatched my phone away from him, looking at him one last time before I stepped out of the apartment, closing the door.

I wandered the campus, lingering as I thought about my options. I kept coming back to the same, sinking conclusion - I had nowhere to go. I was completely alone, without any means to find a place to stay. I wondered what would become of me now. Would I have to leave UW? Would I be trapped in Seattle alone forever? The thought of being alone was terrifying, and I dropped to a bench, finally allowing the tears I had held back flow freely. The release was only partially gratifying as I still worried about where I would go for the night. I would take my chances on a bench if I had no other choice, but how long would I be able to sleep before campus security found me and made me leave?

Fate was watching over me that night. Just when I truly felt hopeless, a few students emerged from one of the nearby buildings. They were discussing the lecture they had just been sitting in on, laughing at one or two of the points. As they drew close to me, the group split, and a girl around my age came closer to where I sat. She turned to wave at me, but stopped in her tracks when she saw my tear-streaked face. I had to look terrifying.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to the bench and sitting down beside me. Her bright green eyes showed sincerity and kindness as she touched my shoulder.

"Yeah…" I lied, sniffling, quickly succumbing to another wave of tears. "I mean no. I just broke up with my boyfriend."

"Oh, no; I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, putting her books down and hugging me. "What did he do - did he cheat on you? The guys in this school are a bunch of sorry fuckers, I swear. It's like they see the next piece of ass walk by and forget that they're already with an amazing girl. That dickhead."

"He didn't cheat on me…" I replied quietly, sniffling.

The girl's eye widened with fear. "Oh no…" she breathed, almost afraid of her next question. "He didn't...hurt you...did he?"

I wasn't the type of person that opened up to a total stranger, but something about this girl made me feel safe where I felt like a total wreck. I reluctantly nodded.

"That fucking bastard!" she exclaimed. "Just show me where to find him, I'll castrate him and make him wish his father never knocked up his mom -"

"Please don't." I pled, crying again, "It's not worth it. It's over now."

The girl hugged me again. "You're going to be okay, I promise." she said, sincerely believing her promise. I sniffled a few times in our silence, and then she asked, "Do you have anywhere to go?"

Again, reluctantly, I shook my head. The girl stood up, a new resolve shining in her eyes.

"Problem solved - you can stay with me." she said firmly.

I stammered in surprise. "But you don't even know my name."

"It doesn't matter," she replied, insistent. "I'm not letting you stay out here, alone, when you've been through so much already." She held out her hand. "I'm Katherine Kavanaugh, but you can call me Kate."

"Ana Steele." I replied, in total awe of how kind Kate could be to a total stranger. I took her hand and she shook it briefly, holding it for a moment as she smiled compassionately at me. "Now, let's get going. You look like you need a long shower and a different outfit."

She had no idea how right she was - after the day's events, I was ready to burn the clothes off my back.

"Kate saved me that night from who knows what." I said, feeling drained from reliving the whole thing. "I'll never be able to repay her for everything she's done for me. Ever."

Christian had been quiet the entire time; just listening to everything I had to say. Something told me he understood the need to be able to say everything without interruption, and I hoped that it would only be a matter of time before he would open up to me the way I had just exposed myself to him.

"Kate is an incredible friend…" he agreed, equally awestruck. He was silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts. I wondered what he was thinking. His grey eyes seemed to gaze on and on into the distance, until they turned on me. Next thing I knew, he was gathering me up in his arms, pulling me into his lap to hold me like a wounded animal.

"Never in a million years would I have ever guessed something so...vulgar and cruel had ever befallen you." he said, his expression twisting in pain as he quite likely pictured the scene in the apartment the last night I had been with Jose. "I can't believe you never went to the police. That dirtbag deserved to be sodomized in prison - he still does."

"No." I shook my head. "Anger repaying anger doesn't solve anything. All I care about is that I'm away from him, and that part of my life is over now. I just want to be able to move on."

Christian was smoldering once again, but by the look in his eyes, I knew it wasn't even slightly directed toward me. "I wish I had known what that bastard did to you when I saw him last night. I would have killed him myself."

"No, Christian. Please." I insisted, turning his face so that I could lock my eyes with his. "Let it go."

"I can't just let something like that go." he replied firmly.

"Why not?" I asked, pleading. Already, it seemed as though my past was poisoning my present, dooming my future. "Why can't you just let it go and move on? It happened to me, not you, and I'm doing a better job of moving past it!"

"It may as well have happened to me!" he snapped, his gaze intense. "He _hurt_ you, Anastasia! He deserves to hurt for what he did! He deserves to suffer. I can't let it go." He stopped, frustrated, and leaned close to me, resting his forehead against mine. What he said next made my heart completely stop.

"I can't just let something like that go," he said quietly, "Because I love you, Anastasia Steele."

A/N: I want to let you all know that I struggled with what happened between Jose and Ana for a few reasons. I knew their falling out had to be intense for her to finally leave him, considering she had let herself continue in the relationship despite not having real feelings for him. I felt a bit conflicted having it end with rape, though, because while it explains the intense fear and anger that Ana feels when thinking about him or seeing him, it is not in the typical nature of such a controlling, abusive man to allow his victim to leave without any further stalking or harassment, and yet, to this point anyway, Jose has not stalked or harassed Ana other than when he attempted to control her again after their chance meeting at the club in the previous chapter. Then again, that's only to this point, so who knows what Jose could still be guilty of, after the fact. Stay tuned!

WordsInStitches


	9. Chapter 9

As I look back on that night, forever ago, but only yesterday, I can't help but smile as I feel the butterflies come back to me. It doesn't matter how long it's been, or what we've gone through; the first time Christian Grey told me that he loved me filled me with an elation that will live forever. All I have to do is close my eyes and hear the words echo in my mind.

My mouth fell agape as I stared at him in shock, unable to process what he had just said to me. _Did he...just say...he _loved _me?!_ Time stood still while I fought to find my voice; knowing what I already felt and what would come if I could just speak. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, his own grey eyes filled with so much emotion that I swore I could see every color of the rainbow in them; blending together in harmony to make an otherwise lifeless color. No one would ever understand such a shade the way I would from that point on; anyone else might see plain, muted grey, but I would see brilliant, magnificent _grey_. Just like _my_ grey.

This revelation made my shyness scurry away; my nerves settled, and my heart soared. I felt confident, and invincible, as I smiled at him with all of the hope in the world and answered his declaration.

"I love you, too, Christian - I love you so much!"

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled us into one another as I leaned forward and kissed him deeply; pouring everything I had felt from the first time I saw him to that moment into the kiss. He seemed to feel it, too; his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, making me feel so small, as though I was melting into him, and returned my kiss even deeper. We fell back into the bed where we had been sitting as I had told my story, and were lost in the moment. My lips were unable to leave his, and my fingers tangled in his hair as I subconsciously fought to keep him from ending the moment. His kisses were deep, warm, and so sweet; I was addicted to them. I seemed to share the same sentiments as well, as he seemed to be thinking about anything but ending our passionate moment. He indulged me, meeting each kiss with one that was deeper, sweeter, lingered longer, made my heart ache as though I still couldn't get enough. My body began to ache for him, and I started to feel the need for even more from him. I felt myself begin to shift under him; my back arching, my legs moving out from beneath him. I bent my knee as I struggled to gain leverage to move how I pleased; prepared to press every inch of myself against him, to beg him without words to take me in the most intimate of ways. But he seemed to read my movements as taking things too fast, and he let me go, sitting back up and studying me for a brief moment before standing, and walking away. Feeling flushed, surprised, and confused, I sat up and looked at him, slightly hurt.

"Ana, I…" he started, pausing as he cursed quietly. "I'm sorry...I just…" He paused again and turned to look at me. His expression was apologetic, but mixed with lingering lust. Something about him screamed that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. _But why would he walk away?_

"After what you just told me," he said slowly, looking at me with such intense hurt, "I can't bring myself to...I mean, I just don't think this is the right moment. I don't want to remember what he did to you when I think of the first time…"

I stopped him, shocked that I hadn't even made the connection before he had brought it up. I had been so lost in the moment...so focused on him, and only him. I felt ridiculous for being so quick to let my feelings take over; especially with how guarded I had been since Jose. But something about Christian; I couldn't keep my walls up with him. I wanted to tell him everything, show him everything, give him everything. It was more than a desire; it was a necessity.

"I can't believe I was so stupid...:" I muttered, ashamed. I looked down at the comforter, which was barely hanging on to the bed thanks to my gymnastics. I felt a small victory in knowing that Christian had to fight to resist me, but the fact that he not only succeeded, but how, was enough to make me feel fairly obtuse.

Christian drew near me and lifted my chin so that I would look back up at him. "You are not stupid, Anastatia." he insisted softly; "If anything, I may be overthinking the entire thing. But you just told me about a terrible time in your life, centered around the so-called intimacy in your life and, to top it off, I was mere inches away from the asshole last night, and resisted the urge to tear him limb from limb which, despite your wise insistence that evil does not repay evil, I now regret as I know what I know now. You've made yourself vulnerable to me in a way that I have not been able to reciprocate to you at this point in time, and I don't want to take our relationship any further until I can share parts of my life with you in the same way as you just have with me. It wouldn't be the least bit fair."

My eyes grew wide at his confession; unable to believe that he admired my vulnerability as well as envied it. I didn't want to push him to open up to me, but God, did I want him to be able to talk to me as easily as I could talk to him. "Christian," I eased gently, reaching up and caressing his cheek the same way he had done to me quite a few times before, "You can always trust me. Tell me anything; I promise, it won't leave us."

He flinched as I spoke. "It isn't that easy." he replied wearily, letting my chin go and moving away from my caress. I felt a twinge of pain in my heart as he seemed to be withdrawing so easily.

"Why not?" I asked, lacking the patience after the way he received the retelling of my past, and how my emotions were running high from the events that had just transpired right there in the room. "Why isn't it easy for you when it's all I can do to stop rambling about everything I've ever lived?"

"Because you're not me, Ana." he replied quietly, looking out the window. "You haven't lived my life, you haven't been treated the way I have, and you haven't had to fight the way I have. Everything leading up to now has been nothing but hell. You wouldn't understand."

His words not only stung as I felt pain for him and what he could have possibly gone through, but also for the sudden change in stance on my own hardships. Even if they paled in comparison to his hard life, how could he treat my past like it didn't mean anything so suddenly? It was a slap to the face, and I felt hot tears sting the corners of my eyes. I got up from my place in the bed, feeling an overwhelming surge of emotions that were so intense I couldn't find the names to match the feelings. All I knew was that I couldn't stand to see him anymore. I had to leave and come to terms with the fire in my soul. If I could do that, maybe I could talk to him more calmly; remember my patience, and he might be able to slowly tear down the walls he had put up, so he could let me in, too. But, right now, all I could feel was the anger, the hurt, the sadness, the disbelief. The _nerve_.

"So now my past, my pain, my fight; they're all nothing because you're too afraid of me to share?" I spat uncontrollably, and I could feel the blue fire blazing in my eyes. It was enough to strike fear and hurt in Christian himself; his own expression reflected a look of shock and pain as he found himself being met with a response he had not expected.

"Ana-"

"No." I continued, my rage fueled by a chip knocked from my heart. He told me he _loved_ me; and now he wanted to belittle _my_ life? He made no sense! I grabbed my shoes and jacket; one of the few times I had remembered to bring one, thanks to the ridiculously small dress Kate had put on me for our excursion the night before. " No, you can't adjust _my_ experiences to justify your decisions. It's _your_ choice as to whether or not you're willing to trust me enough to let me in, but _don't_ pretend it's easier for me because my life wasn't hard enough for you. You have _no_ right."

Christian was speechless as I stormed out of the bedroom. I stopped five steps into the next room as I tried to gain my bearings. Fortunately, his own apartment was fairly similar to mine. Leaving the bedroom had brought me to the main room; a living room with two windows facing out into the city, and a kitchen only separated from the living room by an island bar that was covered with random personal items of Christian's; most of which were stills and scenery shots he had taken for work purposes. There was another doorway to the right of the kitchen area, but it didn't look like an exit, so I wasn't concerned about it. I turned to my left and saw what I was looking for - a faded, greyish-white door, the paint slightly chipped, a peephole, and a gold painted doorknob. I began to stride toward it, eagerly reaching out for the doorknob. My hand was on it when his voice made me hesitate.

"Ana, please don't go." Christian begged behind me, standing in his bedroom doorway. His look was somewhat grieved, and I knew it was because he realized how much his words had hurt me. Part of me wanted to stop and turn around; to stay and calm down with him, so we could talk things out. But I was still reeling from his resistance and the words that he had said, and I couldn't bring myself to let it go. I only wanted out.

"I'm sorry, Christian." I told him, refusing to look at him. "I can't do this right now. Not if you can't trust me." I turned the doorknob and slipped out of his apartment; today, tomorrow, maybe even forever. I wasn't concerned with the logistics. I just wanted to get outside and find a cab to take me home.

When I got back to the apartment that Kate and I shared, I slowly opened the door, praying that Kate was either asleep or out. The place seemed peacefully quiet as I closed the door, and I began to feel fortunate. Being extra cautious, I slowly slipped my shoes off and tiptoed toward my room, in case she was only sleeping. I made it to my room without incident and shut the door just as quietly before slipping over to my bed and climbing in. I pulled the covers up around me for comfort as I tried to push everything out of my mind. Tears that I had been holding since Christian's remarks finally burst free, and I began to sob; my body shaking uncontrollably. Everything I felt with him, from happiness to freedom, fear to pain, was all so intense. Never had I felt emotions so powerful before in my life. I didn't understand it; I didn't want to understand it, but a small voice in my head whispered the answer.

_It's true love._

If this was true love, I didn't know if I wanted it. I felt like I would break into a million pieces. I lay in my bed, tears rolling down my eyes, and fought to regain some sense of sanity. Despite my efforts, the morning's events were clouding my mind as I fought to find which way was up. How could Christian tell me I was strong for enduring what I had, for being able to move on with my life, for putting my foot down and starting over again, if he felt that I had no means to empathize with whatever his terrible past may be? Even worse, what could he have gone through that was so terrible he feared telling me about it?

What upset me most was his reluctance after telling me that he loved me. If he truly loved me, wouldn't he be able to tell me _something_ about his life? I barely knew more about him than Kate did, and she hadn't even met him yet. How could he love me if he couldn't talk to me? Did he even love me at all, or did he say it to comfort me in my moment of weakness? Or was he playing games with me? Did it have to do with his mysterious past?

I got up from my bed. I was tired of asking myself all of these questions that I might never have the answers to. I walked over to my bookcase and grabbed my copy of _Jude the Obscure_. It seemed especially fitting given my frustrating situation, and everything that lead to it. I lost myself in the printed word, and began to reimagine myself as Jude, with Christian playing my Sue, and Jose as my Arabella. As I reached the point where Jude becomes depressed and remarries Arabella, I felt an overwhelming sadness wash over me, and I closed the book, disappointed that my reality could be so easily exacerbated by one of my greatest joys. Perhaps Jude had not been the best pick after all. I put the book back in its place and reluctantly padded my way out from hiding in my room, heading for the kitchen to make a cup of tea and search for a good movie to watch. It was late afternoon now. I hadn't eaten anything, but at the moment, nothing sounded as appealing as a cup of hot English Breakfast tea. I was rustling in the cabinets for my tea cup when I heard the tumblers turn in the deadbolt. I looked over at the front door and saw Kate slipping in, acting out of routine. I smirked as I watched her, knowing that she usually went though this homecoming routine when she had stayed the night with someone. I felt a shot of guilt as I realized that I had passed out at the club the night before, and had never managed to find her. I began to rack my mind for reasons and explanations, and to beg for Kate's forgiveness for disappearing, but she jumped at the sight of me, bringing her hand to her heart as she gasped, dropped her keys, and then giggled nervously.

"Oh God, Ana; you scared me!" she exclaimed, and the way her eyes shone told me that she'd had a _very _good night.

"I'm sorry, Kate," I started, trying to appease her before she could be angry with me, "I was tired of dancing, and I wanted another drink, and then Jose showed up, and then _Christian_ showed up, and they argued, and I-"

"Christian found me and told me that he was going to get you out of the club," she interrupted, unusually unaffected by the events. "I was sort of preoccupied, so I didn't really give him too much of a lecture….wait, did you say _Jose_?!"

Not wanting to get into what happened with Christian, I nodded. I knew that Kate's hatred for the guy was worse than Christian's, and the thought of an encounter with him was enough for her to see red, in tunnel vision.

"What happened? Did he talk to you? Did he try anything?! So help me, if he even lifted a finger toward you, I'll go full bloodhound and find the sorry fucker - "

"It was okay, Kate," I told her, exaggerating the truth. "We talked, and I got uncomfortable, and then Christian came and scared him off."

Kate grinned at the mental picture she seemed to get from the scene and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Well, then; good boy, Christian!" she said, pleased. "I would have liked to have a shot at the bastard myself, but I can live with having Christian there to make him slink away like the slug he is. I'm glad he showed up when he did."

"Yeah," I replied pensively, "Me, too…"

Kate immediately noticed how far off I seemed as I spoke. "Everything okay?" she asked, giving me a quizzical look.

I jumped slightly as I realized how I must look and, still wanting to avoid the conversation, I forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah," I replied; "Everything's fine."

"Just fine?" Kate repeated, skeptical.

Again, I nodded. "Yeah." I replied, "I'm just in the mood for a quiet day at home."

Kate raised an eyebrow at me and crossed her arms. "So everything's just 'fine'." she said, again. "Did something happen between you two?"

I hesitated, pouring hot water from the whistling kettle on the stovetop. "No…" I replied slowly, trying to think of something believable to tell her. "It was just awkward waking up somewhere I've never been before, and in the next moment heaving into a toilet while the guy I admire appears out of nowhere and holds my hair back. It could have been a total stranger. It just threw me for a loop."

Kate chuckled. "But it wasn't." she replied, at ease. "I think that, from now on, if we go out drinking, we need to bring him along to take care of you in case you forget to pace yourself."

She thought she was being funny, and while I wasn't overly amused at the idea of going out drinking again, especially with Christian, I feigned an amused grin. "Yeah, maybe." Ready to change the subject, I turned the tables on Kate. "So, where have you been?" I asked, pretending to be her mother.

Kate giggled and blushed slightly. "Well," she said slowly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "I met an interesting guy, and one thing lead to another…"

"So neither of us came home last night." I said, smirking as I played with the string on my tea bag. It was nearly done steeping.

"Nope." Kate replied happily. "But I got some action. I refused to let Elliott play the role of the gentleman."

I dropped the string in the hot cup, surprised. "Elliott?" I echoed.

Kate's eyes shone as she nodded. "Yep!" she replied.

"As in Christian's brother."

"Funny how it all comes around, isn't it?" Kate seemed pleased by the way kismit seemed to play into the situation. I found it ironic as hell.

"You can say that again." I replied quietly, using my spoon to fish out my tea bag from my cup.

"Well, I came home in part to get changed, but also to tell you to get dressed, too." Kate continued, her eyes sparkling with a plan. "We're going out."

"Kate!" I exclaimed, thinking back to the club; "_Again_?!"

Kate giggled. "For dinner, you numbskull!" she clarified, the gleam growing brighter. "We're going on a double date!"

At that moment, I would have rather gone to the club.

"Come on, Steele." Kate groaned, seeing my reservations. "Tell me truly that you don't want to see Christian again. Unless something _did_ happen that you're not telling me about."

"No!" I replied defensively, adding more calmly, "I mean, I do want to see him again. What time are we meeting?"

"At seven." Kate replied excitedly. "And Elliott is treating us to a nice restaurant, so make sure you wear something amazing...like that dress we got the other day."

"You mean the dress that Mystery Shopper X bought." I said, eyeballing her as I waited to see if she would admit to buying it herself and trying to freak me out by pretending it was someone else.

"Oh, yeah…" she replied, shuddering slightly. "Well, that might have been creepy, but the dress is still incredible. Wear it."

I sighed, realizing that I wouldn't get any sort of confession out of her, and sipped my tea, checking the time on the microwave from the corner of my eye. It was almost five already. I sighed. Movie night in my pajamas would have to wait.

I spent ten minutes looking at my reflection in the vanity mirror; standing back so that I could see my full figure in the dress I wore. As it had in the shop, the fabric clung to every curve of my body like a fitted glove. I smoothed it over my hips, biting my lip as I wondered if anyone would notice the inevitable tension between myself and Christian at dinner. I wondered if he would act differently, or if his brother knew about what happened between us that morning. I felt a little queasy at the idea of having to confess to Kate what really happened, and having to see him when I still felt hurt by the way he had spoken. But I practiced looking confident as I looked at my reflection, and began mentally coaching myself to keep my focus, and not let anyone see my confidence fall. Kate walked in and gasped, smiling as she stepped behind me to look at my reflection. She beamed as she put her hands on my shoulders.

"Ana, I swear; that dress was made for you." she said, more than happy with my appearance. She made me turn around so she could check my makeup, and frowned slightly. "But you need more mascara and lipgloss."

I rolled my eyes. "Kate…" I groaned. But I couldn't even start to protest before she pulled out her arsenal, adjusting my makeup. A few minutes later, she stepped back and smiled; her seal of approval. "Okay," she said, sounding accomplished. "_Now_ you're ready. Let's get going."

Our destination lay downtown, in an unmarked building. The only distinguishable feature that stood out from the surrounding buildings was a simple pink door - and soon, I found that it was the inspiration for the name of the restaurant. We entered the restaurant and checked our jackets with the hostess. The place felt sweet and intimate as we walked in, and Kate lit up in a heartbeat as she spotted Elliott.

"This way!" she said quietly, moving as fast as she could without acting out of line as she made her way to the table. I saw that Christian was also sitting, waiting patiently. He noticed a similar expression in Elliott's face, and turned to see us coming. He seemed to hold his breath when he saw me, and I felt my heart thud with uncertainty. _Remember your confidence._ I reminded myself, taking a deep breath and straightening my posture as I casually followed Kate to the table. Christian stood and moved to the chair beside his, pulling it back for me to sit in. I offered a polite smile before sitting in the chair. He moved it closer to the table before he took his seat beside me once more, and I watched as Elliot helped Kate into her chair as well; directly across from mine.

"Nice choice of venue." Kate said to Elliott, smirking at him seductively.

I rolled my eyes. She wasn't very good at playing hard to get.

"Thanks, babe." he replied, and I could tell immediately that he was already quite smitten with her. The romantic in me felt happy for my friend, but I felt my reservations return when I felt Christian touch my hand. Before he could grasp it, I moved to grab my menu.

"So what kind of restaurant is this?" I asked Elliott, addressing him specifically since he had apparently picked the place. Christian seemed to tense slightly at my actions so far, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of enjoyment from his discomfort. The still hurt part of me wanted him to feel as miserable as I had.

"It's different, isn't it?" he asked, offering me a pleasant smile. "It's pretty cool here. I thought Kate might like it."

"I love it already." she said, reaching over and grabbing his hand. He clasped his fingers around her own hand, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes again. They were moving so fast!

"My brother, the hopeless romantic." Christian remarked, shaking his head. He seemed to have similar reservations, and I felt surprised and intrigued that we shared the same sentiment regarding the new relationship.

"There's nothing wrong with that, bro." Elliott replied, giving his brother a look that seemed to hold a private meaning between them. Christian chuckled and I felt my heart flutter merrily at the sound. I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the melodic reaction before I regained my composure. I was confident. I was polite. But I was not about to forgive him so easily. Unfortunately, he seemed to notice my lapse in demeanor, and he smiled at me. My heart began to melt, but I resisted, and he seemed to see right through my private battle. This made me angry. I began to lose which way was up as I felt the urge to give in to an outburst, right in the middle of the restaurant. I looked down at my lap, and caught sight of my hemline, sitting inches above my knees. The mental image of my reflection earlier in the mirror came to mind, and an idea followed. He wanted to pretend like nothing had happened - fine. So would I; but not in the way he would be expecting. I would leave tonight with the upper hand. I smoothed my skirt before looking up at my menu, crossing my ankles and shifting my feet closer to his. I felt the soles of my heels make contact with one of his black dress shoes, and I saw him shift in his seat. I smirked slightly as I continued to study my menu; pleased that he had noticed almost immediately. The waiter approached the table and looked at our group with a polite smile.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." he said kindly, "Can I start you folks off with any appetizers?"

The evening continued with merry conversation, mostly initiated or carried on with Elliott and Kate, and contributed in parts by myself and Christian. I still avoided addressing him specifically unless it was absolutely necessary, and every so often I would see Kate shoot me a glance as she questioned my lack of interest in talking to my date. I brushed it off and, instead, redirected my attention to torturing Christian with my body language. I ate my dinner slowly, taking my time to taste the food, stopping to sip my water every few bites, licking my lips on occasion. When I finished my meal, I sat back and sighed contentedly; only loud enough for him to really hear. When that caught his attention and I felt his eyes on me, I bit my lip and smiled, pretending I didn't notice.

"Wow, that was really good." I said instead to Kate, making sure I appeared otherwise normal when she or Elliott noticed me.

"This place has been amazing, Elliott." Kate agreed, smiling at him. "I think I'll let you pick the next spot, too."

"Anything for you, baby." he said, grinning like he had been awarded a blue ribbon of approval.

The waiter noticed the end of our entrees and reapproached the table. "Can I interest anyone in dessert?"

I leaned forward slightly, curving my back enough to catch Christian's eye. "Do you have a dessert menu?" I asked casually, acting as though I wasn't trying to drive him insane. No one seemed to notice.

The waiter nodded. "Yes, ma'am." he replied professionally, and handed over a small paper menu. I swept my hair over my right shoulder, leaving my neck and collarbone exposed to my date as I studied the menu harder than necessary.

"I would like to try the chocolate mousse." I said, and I looked up at Kate. "Do you want to share one?"

Kate laughed. "Come on, Steele." she replied, thinking the suggestion funny. "Get your own - I don't share when it comes to chocolate!"

"Not even with me?" Elliott asked, feigning hurt.

Kate grinned at him mischievously. "Nope."

Elliott pretended to be disappointed, but looked up at the waiter. "Two chocolate mousses for the ladies, please." he said. The waiter nodded and left to retrieve the desserts. Kate nudged him playfully.

"You don't want anything?" she asked.

"Naw," he replied, adding something under his breath that was only intended for Kate, but I managed to read his lips as he told her something to the effect that he would have his dessert later. I flushed slightly at the realization, like a child, and froze when I realized that Christian had seen. Thinking quickly, I bit my lip again and smirked as I looked out the window. He caught this as well, and I could feel the tension between us grow so thick that we could have cut it with a knife.

I took my time with dessert as I had with dinner, teasing Christian with every bite, unbeknownst to Kate and Elliott, who were consumed with their own game of sharing the treat that Kate had insisted belonged to her alone. They were acting like a couple fresh out of high school, despite the confident, restrained Kate I knew, while I was acting more like typical Kate as I commanded Christian's undivided attention and refusing to openly acknowledge him. How the tables had turned.

The last bite of my dessert warranted another lick of the lips and a bite that soon followed. I heard Christian sigh, and knew that he could be like putty in my hands if I chose to make a move. But that was what I wanted; him completely vulnerable while I denied him. It made me feel powerful in a sense; like I controlled the next move. It was the total opposite of what I knew about relationships. It was selfish of me, and I knew I would probably regret it later, but I revelled in my power for a little while longer, waiting for Kate and Elliott to finish eating. They were sitting across from myself and Christian, giggling away and playing around as their food disappeared. At last, they were done eating, and Elliott paid the tab. We got up from our seats, and made our way toward the exit. I stood back as Kate retrieved her jacket, and I noticed Christian moving as he began to remove his.

"Miss Steele, you have a habit of forgetting the temperature outside." he said, preparing to place the jacket on my shoulders.

I turned and gave him a puzzled look as I handed my ticket to the hostess, while Elliott placed Kate's jacket on her shoulders. "Not really." I replied, smirking as the hostess returned with my own jacket. He seemed surprised and a bit embarrassed as I took the garment and began to put it on. He quickly stepped forward and, in a swift motion, took the jacket from my grasp and placed in on my shoulders, mirroring his brother's move. I turned to face him and nodded politely to him. "Thank you." I said quietly; my eyes filled with the resolve to stand my ground. I hadn't had enough of my game yet. I wanted to end the night with the upper hand.

"You're welcome, Anastasia." he said, and I tried to resist the small shiver I felt in my spine at the sound of my full name. It was hard to resist the feelings I had for him, even when I was upset with him. I looked away, biting my lip unintentionally, and glanced over at Kate and Elliott, who were walking outside. I began to follow them; Christian moving beside me as though we were invisibly tethered to one another, and we stepped out into the crisp night. Kate and Elliott were already almost to the car, lost in one another's company. Christian took their distraction as an opportunity and moved closer to me. I distanced myself as though his magnetic pull had been reversed, pushing me away rather than drawing me in. I could tell he wasn't happy by the reaction, and I could even sense his hesitation before he began to speak.

"Ana, please." he began softly, as he had in his apartment that morning. "I'm so sorry..."

"Christian, don't start." I snapped, my eyes still ahead on Kate and Elliott, who had now stopped by Elliott's car and were lost in a happy conversation. I bit back a laugh at the irony of the scene. I quickened my pace to catch up to them before Christian could say anything else. Kate and Elliott stopped suddenly, almost as though we had interrupted a private moment.

"Um, so Ana," Kate started, giving me a look that I unfortunately understood, "Elliott wants to go back to the club, and seeing that your experience there last night was shitty enough to deserve a break from the place before you make another attempt to enjoy the place..."

I sighed as she held out her car keys. She wanted me to take Christian home so they could be alone. I offered a weak smile, defeated for the sake of my friend's happiness, and took the keys from her. "Got it. I'll take Christian home."

Christian opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but stopped. I wondered what he had intended to say, but it seemed as though I would never know as he now stayed silent. I shot him an intense look that told him to be on his best behavior, and offered a polite smile. "Christian?"

He smiled, both happy and worried about what would happen as a result of the change in our plans. "Lead the way, Miss Steele." he said, waiting for me to start walking to Kate's car.

The drive to Christian's apartment was quiet. I was disinterested in carrying a conversation, and he seemed to be lost in thought. I could feel him watching me as I drove, and I sat up in my seat, shifting slightly as I played one of my last moves for the night, making my skirt ride slightly higher on my thighs. If I had to be stuck in Kate's car in an uncomfortable silence with him, the least I could do was find some sense of enjoyment in it. I had wanted time away from him to decide what I wanted to do with our relationship; instead, I'd been pushed to keep being involved, despite my reservations. Well, I would go out with a bang and take my sabbatical - just as soon as I dropped him off and drove away.

I pulled up alongside the apartment and put the car in park. The door locks clicked as they unlocked, and I looked over at him cooly. "Well, Mr. Grey." I said politely, "This is you."

"That it is." he replied slowly, pausing for a moment. "Would you please come in for a moment? It's pretty customary for a date to end with a cup of coffee before the two parties go their own ways."

"It might," I replied, emotionless, "But I don't drink coffee."

"Please, Anastasia." he pled, and his eyes, _my_ grey eyes, begged intensely. "Just for a few minutes. I need to talk to you, and I don't want to have this conversation in a car."

It may have been how sincere he seemed as he asked me to come in, or it may have been my curiosity as to what he could possibly say to me that needed to be said in the privacy of his home. Part of me worried that it was a trap, but I remembered how I had thrown myself at him just hours ago, and he had resisted. He couldn't possibly have changed his mind so soon...could he? Either way, I found myself shutting off the engine, and I followed him inside.


	10. Chapter 10

I followed Christian into his apartment, my guard up as I wanted to remain firm in my resolve to maintain the upper hand in this encounter. He began to make his way into the kitchen, and turned to me as he approached the cupboard.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.

"No, thank you." I said, crossing my arms as I stood only a few steps from the doorway I had just entered.

Christian frowned. "Ana, please." he insisted, and his weary demeanor made my own expression soften slightly.

"Okay." I replied, nicer. "Whatever you have is fine. But I meant it when I said no coffee."

A small smile spread across his face as he grabbed two glasses. He went into the freezer and filled the glasses with ice cubes before opening the fridge and bringing out a pitcher of water. He filled both of the glasses and put the pitcher away, grabbing the drinks and approaching me. I took one of the glasses and took a sip of the cool water, watching him expectantly.

"Please sit." he said, gesturing over to the sofa.

I humored him, making my way to the sofa. I waited for him to sit before I sat as well, making sure I sat on the opposite end. He didn't seem too thrilled by this move, but he took a sip of his water and set the glass on the coffee table, stopping for a moment as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

"You really made me think after you left today." he said quietly. "I don't usually question myself when I put my foot down on something; especially when it comes to revisiting darker parts of my life."

I opened my mouth to make a smart remark, but he stopped me.

"Please, Anastasia," he insisted, "Let me finish before I lose my nerve."

I closed my mouth and watched him, now anxious to hear what was so difficult for him to say. Was this it?

"I want to tell you first that I truly am sorry for what I said to you before." he said quietly, locking his grey eyes with my own. "I was so concerned with keeping my walls where I felt comfortable that I completely disregarding your own demons. Our situations are...different, but it doesn't make them any more or less haunting, or even any easier to cope with. I meant it, though, when I had told you that you were strong for being able to open up to me. I envied that strength, but it also scared me. I...I've never opened up to anyone about my past, not even my own family. They only know what has happened to me since becoming a part of their family, and while I feel fortunate, it has also made me feel alone. I feel divided by it; I'm grateful that they were there for some of my battles and could support me, but I never find myself trusting them enough to tell them about everything I've been through. To be blunt, I'm an extremely fucked up person, Anastasia, and I don't want anyone to treat me differently for it."

I felt the sincerity of what he was telling me, and I felt the anger I had held for him begin to wash away. I now began to understand why he had been so quick to change his tune before; if there were things about his life that he hadn't been willing to share with the people that had cared for him for a long period in his life, how was I to expect he would share them with me, when we barely knew each other? He continued.

"I had a terrible childhood before I met my family now." he said slowly, looking out the window as though he was bringing back a replay of the life he had once lived. "My so-called parents were more concerned with their vices than they were in taking responsibility for their child. For as far back as I can remember, they were either drunk or high on crack or heroin; it was only a matter of how much money they could scrounge up to feed their habits, or what cards they could play to get their next fix. I was their pawn in feeding their habits - I can remember when I was very small, being dressed up in ragged clothes and sat on sidewalk corners while I held a sign in one hand and a cup in another. I wasn't able to read yet, so I don't know what the signs said, but sometimes, people would bring me sandwiches, juice boxes, or animal crackers instead of money. Every once in a while, someone would talk about bringing me home with them, and my parents would run out from where they were hidden across the street, apologizing and telling me that I was a bad boy. When we would get back home, my _father_ would whip me with his belt, and my _mother_ would curse at me and call me stupid for not running away from the kind soul offering me a new life."

The way he had said 'mother' and 'father' had been strained, through gritted teeth. I could tell it hurt him to refer to them by such terms, but he seemed to lack better ways to describe them. I continued to sit quietly, listening patiently.

"As I got older, my role changed. My _father_ taught me how to pickpocket and shoplift. When he felt I was ready, he sent me out with my _mother_ for my first job." He paused, shaking his head and spitting curses. "I was brought to the business district in the city. The woman watched me from around the corner of the block as I was swallowed in a sea of businessmen leaving their offices for lunch hour. I bumped into a few of them intentionally before making my move. I slipped a black leather wallet from the pocket of a white haired, spectacled man in a dark grey pinstriped suit and black, shining leather shoes. The memory was so vivid; the moment was intense, frightening, and I hoped I would get caught and taken away. But no one noticed." He stopped, his eyes now filled with disappointment. "No one noticed but them. And they celebrated that night, drinking and smoking while telling me that I was lucky to be of use to them. I felt filthy, and I was so afraid that I would become just like them.

"I tried to leave that night. I waited until I was sure they had passed out, and tiptoed my way to the door. I was about to escape when I heard her retching. Then, gagging. Then, choking." His eyes glistened with conflict, visibly hurting as he continued. "If I had left, she would have _died_. The bitch would have been gone, and I might have had a chance at a new life. Her husband was almost as much of a puppet as I had been; his every move and trick orchestrated by Her Almighty Will. But, at 11, all I knew was that she was my mother, and I would be as wicked as she was if I left her to die. I closed the door and rushed to her side, and I rolled her on her side so the vomit would run out of her mouth and windpipe. Even though it seemed to do the trick, she wasn't breathing. I was frantic. I started smacking her back. It took a minute, but I heard her gasp and start coughing, and I knew I had saved her. She opened her glazed eyes and looked through me, and she touched my face like she loved me before she slipped out of consciousness. I remember going to sleep that night thinking that, maybe, things would change. I wound up being right, but not the way I had thought.

"The next morning, I woke up to a sudden intense, burning pain in my ribs. The bitch had kicked me. She yelled at me for sleeping in and cursed while she threw clothes at me. She was feeling the aftereffects of her high and needed another fix. Her husband dragged me out the door as a plate smashed a few inches away from my head. We went back to the business district, and waited for hours until the offices began to close. A flood of tired employees filled the sidewalks, and I was pushed in the crowd to weave my way through and pick a good target. I went for a young man, about the age I am now, who walked like he owned the world. I went to slip his wallet out of his pocket and he jumped. I panicked and ran off before he could get a good look at me, but I could hear him yelling. When I made it back to my father's hiding place, he grabbed me by my collar and dragged me home, cursing about how I had messed up and what I should expect when I got home. The bitch saw red when she found out we came back empty-handed. She threw a wooden cutting board and it hit me in the head. I saw stars for what felt like an eternity...and then I felt something hot covering my face. When my sight cleared, all I saw was red, and my father had scooped me up and ran me to the emergency room. He played his part well - the doting, concerned father who had turned his back for just a moment at the wrong time. I fell down the stairs, he insisted. The doctor and nurses seemed skeptical, but when I was asked, I simply nodded and agreed with my father. I was convinced that the thieving I had started participating in was obvious to see - and who would want a little boy who stole?

"We managed to get past the incident without being questioned, but I was terrified of that woman after that. All she had to do was raise her voice and I would flinch. I would wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares that seemed so real; her coming over to where I slept, beating me until my heart stopped beating. I barely slept for a while after that."

I felt my stomach churn at the image of an eleven year old boy with copper hair and sad, grey eyes being afraid of a woman who should have been his protector and comforter. I reached out and touched his hand, and he seemed to temporarily come out of his reverie as he looked down, seeing the source of the sudden warmth he felt. He squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go, not wanting to stop in the middle of his story, for fear that he wouldn't be strong enough to finish it.

"By my twelfth birthday, I had picked numerous wallets, stolen booze from any store I could sneak into, and had been beaten numerous times. I had a few more scars to add to the injury on my head from the bitch's cutting board; from drinking glasses, plates, and cigarette butts. I refused to undress in front of anyone so I could hide the shame that came from my life, though only had to worry about that on a couple of occasions, when I had to return to the ER for injuries that her husband couldn't fix on his own. Despite their hatred of me, they needed me to fuel their lifestyle. I found myself contemplating suicide...at twelve, I wanted to die. I started becoming more daring when I was sent to 'work' - hoping that I could get caught, and trade my personal hell for a new one, where I might have better luck ending it all."

Christian turned his face so that I could no longer try to read his expression. His shoulder sank and I heard him sigh weakly, as though the story was physically breaking him down. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop; that he didn't have to continue, but before I could, he spoke again.

"I was back in the ER that evening." he began slowly, his voice cracked. "The bitch had come at me, swinging a large knife. I had done everything I could to avoid her, but she backed me into a corner, and she began stabbing the walls around me. I remember crying and begging her to stop, trying to promise anything I could to make her stop, and she laughed - _she laughed at me like I was being funny_. She told me that she wished I had never been born and that I had ruined her life, and she slashed me across my ribs. I felt such a terrible pain, and the familiar heat of bleeding uncontrollably, and her husband scooped me up as he always did when she hurt me. He cursed at her for not controlling herself and ran out of the apartment, down the stairs, and back to the ER. At this point, we'd had to switch hospitals a few times, so that the doctors wouldn't recognize us and raise red flags. This time, though, I was bleeding so profusely that he didn't trust going 10 blocks to a new hospital. He ran to the first hospital he could find, refusing to be responsible for a dead child. When I arrived, I was rushed off to receive treatment, and he disappeared. I had lost so much blood that I lost consciousness soon afterward.

"When I awoke, I was alone except for a nurse who was checking my vitals. She smiled at me when she saw that I was awake, and she started to tell me where I was and ask for my name. I wouldn't speak to her, and after a few minutes, she left to get a doctor. A few minutes later, she came back with two men in white coats. They both took turns speaking to me, asking who I was, but something about the way they looked at me and kept whispering back and forth scared me. I refused to speak until they called in a third doctor, a woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. She sat down and told me her name was Dr. Trevelyn-Grey, and that she knew my parents had been hurting me, but that they wouldn't be able to touch me anymore. All I had to do was tell her my name and who my parents were. Something about her made me feel safe, so I told her who I was. She started asking me about what happened before I came to the hospital. I was still hesitant to tell her everything, but I did tell her that my mother had been the one to cut me, and that my father had brought me to the hospital. She listened to me intently, and made sure I was done talking before she spoke again. She promised me that she would do everything she could to help me be healthy so I could leave the hospital, and that there were some nice people that wanted to help me find a new, better home. It was what I had wanted for so long; I held on to her promise while I rested in the hospital, hoping for something so much better.

"I found out later on that Child Services found my parents, strung out on drugs in their apartment. They called the cops, and when they arrived, the bitch went ballistic. She grabbed the knife that she had slashed me with and held her husband hostage in a brief standoff, screaming curses at the officers and telling them that she wasn't going down without a fight. She cursed at her husband and blamed him for bringing me to the hospital and letting me live, because I had ruined everything for her once again. She told him to burn in hell before she slit his throat. Then she started swinging the knife at the officers. She told them that she would take out every pig she could get her hands on before she would be taken down. She managed to injure an officer before the order was given to use deadly force to subdue her. Her rage was her downfall, and she ended with a thud from a bullet between the eyes."

I sat back, in awe of everything he had told me. It was all so much - anger, hatred, grief, sadness, depression, disgust, fear, and heartlessness. I couldn't believe that he had gone through such an ordeal in such a short time. And yet, here he was, still alive and breathing, safe and sound, though the experience had more than made its mark in his life. He leaned forward, turning his head as he moved to bury his face in his hands. I caught a glimpse of glistening on his jawline before he hid, and I knew that retelling his story had brought so much hurt back for him that he had broken down emotionally. He was ashamed of his feelings; but I saw the strength in him as he faced his pain, not trying to block or bury it. Tentatively, I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around him comfortingly, trying to soothe him. I felt him begin to crumble under my embrace; leaning into me and welcoming the gesture. I rested my cheek on the top of his head, closing my eyes as I struggled to find the right thing to say. It was especially difficult - he had been right when he said our personal struggles were substantially different. I felt ridiculous for being angry with him at suggesting the notion in the first place. Some of the most important years of his life were full of hurt and betrayal from two of the most important people he could have ever had. I couldn't believe there were real people in the world that could be like that. It seemed almost impossible. But, seeing Christian, and hearing his voice as he told his story, I knew that he couldn't be making any of it up. The thought was terrifying.

"Christian," I murmured sympathetically, "I am so sorry…I could have never imagined...you never deserved any of what they put you through…"

"Ana, don't apologize. It wasn't any of your fault." he said weakly. "You need to know that there are two reasons why I didn't want to tell you any of this before. I didn't want you to know about my past and treat me differently for it, like you had to handle me like I was breakable. I can't handle that. I also didn't want you to see me the way I once saw myself; filthy and despicable. It took years of intensive therapy for me to finally stop beating myself up for what I did when I was trapped with those people. Even now, I still have times where I start to think that way, and it takes a lot for me to snap out of it. But I'll tell you this - the thought hasn't crossed my mind since I've met you. Not until this morning, when you left."

I felt a twinge of pain as I realized I had triggered the reawakening of his negative self image. "I'm so sor-"

"No." he said, interrupting me sternly, "Don't. I don't want you treating me differently, remember?"

I hesitated, wanting to apologize for causing him more pain than I had realized or intended, but I stopped and nodded quietly. It wouldn't be easy, but it had been anything but easy for Christian to open up to me about his childhood. I could see that as clear as day. I could use more restraint and avoid the urge to coddle him if that was what he wanted.

"Okay." I agreed softly, placing my hand on his. "I won't."

Christian sat back in his seat, sighing deeply. "It's weird…." he said thoughtfully, "I thought that I would feel worse if I told someone about my life...but, I actually feel relieved. Like a weight has been taken off of my shoulders."

I squeezed his hand gently, smiling hopefully. "It's because it winds up hurting more to hold on to such a weight alone. Being able to tell someone else shifts the burden so that you don't have to carry it by yourself anymore."

Christian looked into my eyes with relief. "I wouldn't have believed you if you had told me." he admitted, squeezing my hand back. "You are my saving grace, Anastasia. I don't know how I can ever thank you for that."

I might not have fully understood the weight he had carried by keeping his past to himself, but I knew better than to suggest that he might be exaggerating. Instead, I took his hands in mine, looking in his eyes as I praised him for his own strength.

"I'm so proud of you for fighting your fears, Christian." I replied honestly, finding myself feeling shy at the intensity between us from the moment we shared. "I was just lucky enough to be the person you felt you could open up to…" I hoped he could see my sincerity as I spoke. "Any time you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me. I won't judge you, I won't interrupt you - I'll just listen. I mean it."

The intensity of his gaze flared at my words, and I found my cheeks begin to flush as I felt electricity begin to fly between us. He took one of his hands away from mine, reached over, and caressed my cheek; a gesture that I leaned into eagerly, craving the feeling the way a magnet craves the touch of metal. I sighed as I felt my craving fed, revelling in his touch, and not wanting to move from it. When I opened my eyes, shining sapphire met dark smoke, and I tried to read his thoughts.

"Ana…" Christian said slowly, so softly that I couldn't help but see the injured child from his past showing from inside him. "I don't have much right to ask this, but...please stay with me tonight."

I felt my heart pitter patter at the notion. I had stayed the night before, but I had been passed out from drinking, and hadn't been able to choose whether or not I wanted to be there. Now, I had a choice. What would happen? Part of me wanted for things to lead where I had wanted them to just this morning, but another part of me felt that it would be wrong, considering he had held back because of my vulnerability. Now he was the vulnerable one. Could I show restraint as he had? I now regretted teasing him throughout the evening, and I began to wonder if it was a good idea to stay. But I could see the hurt in his eyes; I couldn't bring myself to leave him alone to deal with the pain of reopening old wounds.

"Okay." I replied quietly, offering him a comforting smile. "I'll stay."

He smiled gratefully at me, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. "Thank you." he said.

I felt warmed by his affection, and closed my eyes once more, briefly. I bit my lip thoughtlessly, and when I looked at him again, he brushed his thumb over my lips. I felt my breathing hitch at the touch, and gave him a questioning look. He answered the look by leaning over and kissing me, slowly and sweetly. When I answered his kiss, he kissed me again; this time, smolderingly. I could feel the heat buried in the kiss, and I drank it in, mirroring his movement to avoid separating as I felt him slightly move away. This only seemed to fuel his actions, and I felt his hands move to my waist as he pulled me into his lap wantingly; needing me closer to him. I shared his needs and ran my fingers through his hair, twisting it gently in my grasp as I began to kiss him more fiercely; my body acting on impulse. He felt my ferocity, and I felt him grasp my waist before raking his fingers upward to my shoulders, then back down my spine. I shivered anxiously at the sensation, and I sighed into our kiss. We moved in a way that spoke almost eerily, as we spoke no words, but we seemed to each know what the other wanted, and we moved in sync. My lips parted slightly, and he licked them, feeding the fire in my soul, and I tilted my head as I invited him to intensify the kiss. Our tongues soon met, and danced slowly and sensuously as we continued to fuel the flame that was soon to be out of control for us both. Our tongues soon parted as Christian began to pull away faster than I could follow, and he snatched my bottom lip between his teeth, nipping it gently first before kissing me again and biting down softly. I gasped at the sharp but delicious feeling, gazing at him intensely when he pulled away. His eyes were as intense as my own; locked in place while his hands began to feel the tight fabric clinging to my body. My eyes pled with him; my division dissolved as only one thought was on my mind - _Take me, Christian_. _Please._

He read the look without any doubt, and scooped me up in his arms. He continued to place soft kisses on my lips as he carried me to his room, and gently let me down so I could stand. He stood behind me now, taking my hair into a loose grasp, and moving it over my shoulder so that my neck and back were exposed. He began to place soft kisses up and down my neck, lingering at the place where my neck and collarbone met. I shivered with delight at the intimacy of the gesture, and I heard the zipper of my dress begin to sing.

"This dress has been driving me crazy all night." he whispered huskily, and I felt myself weaken even more at the sound. I no longer regretting teasing him after all as I felt the dress loosen, then drop. I was grateful for the fact that I had worn lacy undergarments beneath the dress that night; I hadn't even considered the possibility that someone would see them. It was pure luck that I felt motivated to pick them out. Christian only seemed more fascinated by the lacy black panties and matching bra that kept me from being completely naked.

"You never cease to surprise me, Anastasia." he said sensuously, walking around to face me as he took in the sight of me, unbuttoning his dress shirt. Slowly, he began to expose his chest. I had been so wrapped up in wanting him that I had almost forgotten his warning of how he had feared his upper body being exposed. When his shirt dropped, I gasped in pain.

His body glowed faintly in the dim light of the room. Scars littered his otherwise flawless body; circles and dashes scattered here and there like senseless morse code scribbled on paper. In the dead center was the worst of all; a long, slender, silvery mark that stretched from left to right, across the higher end of his ribs. I didn't want to think about the little boy, his life bleeding away as he was abandoned at a hospital to suffer whatever fate may bring. I looked up at Christian's face as he stepped closer, cupping my cheek in his hand as he stroked my cheekbone with his thumb.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." he said softly, reassuring me. "Not anymore…"

His words filled me with comfort as I found the pain I had felt for him wash away. His eyes; my brilliant grey eyes filled with all of the colors in the world, only saw me - and I only saw him. The scars faded away from my mind as he kissed me passionately, wrapping his arms around me and bringing our bodies together to become one. Time lost all meaning as we found ourselves intertwined; experiencing what I could only refer to as lovemaking for the first time in my life. Everything about it had been so beautiful, sensuous, and incredible that Christian had taken my breath away; among other things. It was the first time I'd had sex where I did find myself trying to focus elsewhere. If anything, I had been as much a part of it as Christian had, and I had truly, deeply _wanted_ it. I felt a new power within me, and a new weakness at the same time. I needed us, together, and I wanted us, together; we were absolutely amazing, and I basked in the feeling as I felt completely loved and in love for the first time in my life.

"I love you, Anastasia." he said in a breathless whisper, making the moment almost completely perfect.

"And I love you, Christian." I said softly, kissing his cheek tenderly.

I had never experienced something so incredible, so consuming, and yet, so complete before that night. Nothing would top the memory of this night for a long time, if it truly ever did. I fell asleep, naked in both body and soul, with Christian beside me in perfect harmony.

A/N: So sorry for the delay in updating! My energetic 4 year old crashed into the family laptop while Daddy was online and destroyed the screen, so I've been without hardware since Sunday! :-( Fortunately, this Mama got paid today, so I was able to replace the trashed Chromebook with a _real_ laptop! This is the last chapter I managed to write, so hopefully I can get some serious writing done tomorrow on my day off and keep up with updates. Keep on reading and reviewing - every one of you motivates me!

WordsInStitches


	11. Chapter 11

The sunlight streamed in through the small spaces between the blinds, and I slowly began to wake. I felt a pair of arms holding me tightly as I gained consciousness, and I opened my eyes groggily, yawning as I turned my head. I saw Christian, sleeping peacefully as he grasped me like a security blanket, and smiled. The sunlight caught the natural highlights in his hair, surrounding his messy head in a shimmering halo. I turned my body in his sleeping embrace, and curled into his chest. In the morning light, the scars appeared once more, and I found myself studying them quietly. The marks from the cigarettes put out on his body made me burn as I felt hatred for the supposed parents that had lacked the emotion to feel remorse as they held the burning objects against their young son's skin. The slash across his chest was slightly raised where his body, aided by what I could only assume were far more stitches than any person should ever have to wear, had knit the skin and flesh back together; healing over to protect him from being exposed. I lightly brushed my fingers against it, and a pain stabbed my heart as I struggled to fathom a woman so demonic that she would have willingly done such a thing to her own child. I wondered if any of this would ever make any sort of sense to me, but when I looked back up at Christian's face, I found myself distracted. A faint mark peeked out from behind his hair, and I remembered the wooden cutting board he had told me had hit him the first time. Carefully, I pushed his hair back above his forehead, and I saw it - a slightly sunken scar on the right corner of his forehead.

_I saw stars for what felt like an eternity...and then I felt something hot covering my face._

My stomach churned. His biological mother had truly been a monster. I remembered that he had mentioned on a handful of occasions that he had a new family now. I wondered who they were, and if they had been the blessing that came into Christian's life and saved him from the hell he had been burning in during his youth. I contemplated asking him after he woke up, but set the thought aside to ponder further. I didn't want to push him to tell me too much at once. We didn't need to move too fast.If anything, he had told me so much the night before that I still needed to process it all. I curled into his body and closed my eyes; no longer tired, but simply savoring the closeness we shared as we lay together peacefully. It was official - he had stolen my heart, completely.

My grey eyes opened slowly, all the more brilliant in the morning sunlight. "Good morning, Miss Steele." he said, looking at me like I was his most precious treasure.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey." I whispered softly, unable to tear my eyes away from his. When he was unconscious, all I wanted to do was comfort him. Now that he was awake, I wanted to marvel in him.

He brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes, studying me as though he shared the same sentiment. "Ana…" he said softly, "Don't move."

His words confused me, and I found it hard not to move when he jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. What was he doing?

He came back with a camera. It looked fairly old, but I didn't know very much about cameras, so I was uncertain of how old. I could just tell by looking at it that it was on the more professional end of the spectrum. I looked from the camera to Christian with questioning eyes.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are." he said, smiling lovingly at me as he held the camera in his hands; the shutter button beneath his index finger; poised the way a hunter would be prepared to take his shot. His words made me melt, and the butterflies in my stomach made it all but impossible to smile blissfully. I hear a metallic click and shift, and the camera was set down on top of his dresser. He came back to the bed and climbed on to it, crawling over to me so that he could place a kiss on my lips. I all too willingly kissed him back, drinking him in while we glowed with the morning sunlight.

"And now," he said playfully, "We need breakfast." He threw on a pair of boxer briefs and a plain white t-shirt before making his way out of the room once again.

I was reluctant to follow suit, but I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, looking around the room for my clothes. They had fallen all around the room, and scattered themselves amongst Christian's own suit pieces. I caught a glimpse of my dress peeking out from beneath his suit jacket, and my panties lay in the middle of a clear area like a victory sign. I smirked as I rose from the bed, feeling shy yet empowered as I picked them up and slid them back on. I began to turn and reach for my dress when Christian's dress shirt from the night before caught my eye. I picked it up and brought it to my face, inhaling the cologne he had worn for our double date. The subtle yet rich musk of the cologne made me think of him, hot and passionate, kissing me on my neck, my collarbone, my shoulders...I shivered deliciously at the thought. I slipped the shirt on, buttoning it up from the bottom hem, and leaving the top three buttons undone. I left my hair down as I left the room, sweeping it all over my left shoulder as I felt my stomach growl; chuckling at the sensation. Christian was right - we did need breakfast.

As I stepped into the kitchen, Christian was busy pulling out frying pans, spatulas, and ingredients to make our breakfast. I slowly approached the island bar in the middle of the kitchen and rested my elbows on it, leaning slightly forward as I watched him work furiously.

"I never pictured you as a cook, Mr. Grey." I teased.

"Well, a man's gotta eat, Miss Steele," he replied, focusing on his work, "And I can be a _very_ hungry man." He turned around and his jaw dropped as he saw me in his shirt. He took a few steps forward.

"In more ways than one?" I asked flirtatiously.

He nodded, seemingly mesmerized as I emerged from behind the island bar, showing that the hemline of his shirt fell inches above my knees. He darted back to his room and returned with his camera, intently snapping photos like a crazed model photographer. I laughed at him and sashayed playfully, pretending to be the model to his photographer. I tugged gently on the bottom hem of the shirt and bit my lip, shifting my weight so that my body curved and drew attention to my hips. I leaned forward and laughed again, more sensuously this time as I brought my hand to my lips and blew a kiss. He drew closer and closer, getting closeup shots of me, and I laughed again at the silly game we were playing. I didn't even feel self-conscious about whether or not I looked like I had just woken up, or if my makeup was smeared on my face from forgetting to wash it off before I fell asleep. I felt radiant at that moment, and confidence flowed through me as Christian drew closer and closer, the shutter clicking like morse code until it suddenly stopped.

"Out of film…" he said quietly, looking at me with a smoldering expression. Our faces were now inches apart.

"Now what?" I asked teasingly. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast can wait for a little longer, don't you think?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my waist and drawing me in. There was no space between our bodies as he held me tightly. The closeness and the mood from our game had me eager to go back to bed. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him deeply, weaving my fingers through his hair as I grasped it and held him against me. He licked my lips as he kissed me back, groaning into me as he fumbled blindly for a place to put his camera, setting it aside on the island bar before wrapping his other arm around me, holding me even tighter than before. I felt my breath squeezed from my body as I kissed him again, more fiercely as I pushed him slightly backward, walking toward the bedroom. I was just as eager, if not more, than he was. I would claim him again as my own; my other half, my missing piece. We shared it in so many ways already, but this new level of sentiment had my body running almost uncontrollably. I was like a feral animal, running on nothing but instinct. We slammed against the wall beside the door frame for Christian's room, and he grunted while I whimpered.

"I'm sorry…" I murmured in his lips.

"He shook his head, kissing me passionately as he guided me a little further to his right, then slowly encouraging me to keep moving him backward through the doorway, and into his bed.

I had wondered if the first time had been a lucky fluke; that maybe because I'd never truly enjoyed the mutual desire for sex that I had been swept off my feet by the new experience. The second time we made love had me wondering if I could still argue that it was a fluke. Something about being with Christian Grey in that way left me feeling both completed, and yet, still wanting. I could feel the satisfaction lulling my body when we were done, but a small flame still burned inside of me, quietly nagging me for more passion, more elation, more bliss. I wondered if every woman felt like this when she gave herself completely to the man she loved. I also wondered if I would ever be able to think straight again, especially around Christian. I would never get to know more about who he was as a person if all we ever did was take our clothes off.

I sighed softly and smiled, closing my eyes as he rolled off of me;

encapsuling me with one arm. He kissed my cheek gently, and I felt him begin to trace his finger back and forth across my cheekbone.

"I can't get over how you affect me…" he said softly. "There's something about you, Anastasia...I can't help but be drawn to you…"

"Like a moth to the flame…" I murmured, echoing my own thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked at him to see how close I had gotten to mirroring his own thought.

He nodded. "My thoughts exactly." he agreed thoughtfully, his eyes studying my face as though he was trying to save every detail in his mind, like painting a portrait. _Or taking a mental photo._ I thought with a grin. Always the photographer.

_Like a moth to the flame…_ I thought, again. This time, my mind seemed to add forebodingly; _Just be careful that you don't get burned._

When I look back at those early times with Christian, I smile at the good, but I also hurt at the thought of how little I actually knew about him. There was so much more about Christian Grey that I didn't yet know; things that hurt us as a couple. Things that haunted him. Things that hurt me. I thought he had told me everything dark about his past, and yet, he had only shown me one chapter. I thought my relationship with Jose had changed who I was as a person, but looking back now, I changed so much more with Christian. A lot of it was good, but some things were not for the best, even remotely. I suppose that's why they call it growing older, growing wiser. But when you're only 20, you don't believe that you can possibly learn anything important enough to make a major impact in your life.

Christian and I continued to date for the next couple of months in a constant state of bliss. We would occasionally see each other at work, sharing secret smiles as we would attempt to treat each other professionally. Danielle would smile an all-knowing smile as we would interact, and when Christian would leave, she would pry for details as to how we were doing together. We would go to the movies every so often, and we would hold each other's hand as we stared at the screen. I would think about the first time he held my hand, and just as I would feel overwhelmed by the sentiment, he would bring my hand to his lips and kiss the back of it, making me blush like a silly highschooler. We went out to dinner a few times, too; though I usually made it a point to let Christian know how much I preferred his cooking, in his apartment, without any spectators to worry ourselves with. Dinner dates at home usually led back to his room; sometimes, by his lead, and others, by my own. Every time we were together intimately, it was intense, passionate, and consuming. Sometimes, I would be so consumed by him that, once we were done, I would come on to him again, trying to coax him to take me back in his arms so I could lose myself once more. He would get to the point that he would tease me for trying to kill him with sex, and we would both laugh at the ridiculous notion. We would go to the park together, just walking and talking while Christian would snap candid photos; sometimes, of the landscape, but mostly of me. It was as though he could never get enough pictures of me, and I grew used to the familiar clicking of the shutter as he would snap a photo here and there, no longer catching me off guard. Even though I had come to expect it, I never tensed or posed for his photos, unless I did so intentionally in an attempt to be playful or funny. I learned that the second bedroom in his apartment was strictly a dark room, and that he only ever used traditional cameras that required film. He held on to the old technology and refused to go digital. I remember sitting patiently in the living room , reading _Tess of the D'ubervilles _as I waited for him to emerge from the darkroom. When I heard the door click shut as he made his exit, I looked over my shoulder at him. He stopped and smiled at me, looking content.

"Hello, Mr. Grey." I said cheerily. "Did you have a productive visit to the red room?"

"I did, Miss Steele." he replied, smirking at me, "Though, you know it's called a dark room, right?"

I rose from the sofa and set my book down, walking toward him. "I know," I replied, smirking back. "I can't help it - the red light makes me think of a red room instead of a darkroom. Shouldn't a darkroom be dark?"

"You _do_ make a good point." he replied thoughtfully, laughing at me. "I'll let it slide." He put his arms around my waist and kissed my forehead, and I sighed happily.

"You know," I said, a thought coming across my mind. "It's been a while since I've seen any of your photos published. Have you been having a hard time selling your photos?"

"It's been slow." he admitted. "But I'm sure my business with the paper will pick back up soon. After all, July 4th is right around the corner."

"Holiday events always make for plenty of candid shots." I agreed, "I'm sure you'll find something. But Christian...I don't want to be rude...but…"

"Freelance for the paper isn't my only job, Anastasia." he interrupted quietly.

This was a first for me, despite the few months we had known each other. He had another job? I had never seen or heard him mention it before. "It isn't?" I asked curiously.

"I also work for a private firm." he continued slowly, seemingly choosing his words. It seemed unusual considering how much he had been opening up to me in most recent times. "I'm a photography assistant for a private investigator."

This came as a complete surprise. Christian Grey, P.I.? "I had no idea…" I said quietly, trying to absorb what he had just told me.

"You aren't supposed to." he said quickly, adding, "The nature of my work, as well as my employer information and client list, are all private. I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement prior to being hired.

"Hmm…" I said slowly, thinking it over briefly before my hormones clouded my brain. "Christian Grey, P. I….That's actually kind of sexy…"

He chuckled weakly, stopping as I moved my hands up and down his chest. I looked into his eyes, and he almost seemed wounded. Confused, I gave him a questioning look and put my hands on his shoulders; studying my grey eyes in search of an answer for his unusual reaction. His cell phone began to buzz on the island bar in the kitchen, and he broke away from my grasp to check it. His eyes flashed with surprise, and he snatched the phone up and walked toward the front door.

"I need a moment, please, Ana." he said hurriedly, slipping out.

I felt even more confused now as he left me alone, and I crossed my arms as I waited for his return; thinking about his second job and how the mystery behind it seemed to bother him more than it bothered me. I wondered what it was about his work that made his mood change so drastically. Before I could fully review all of the possible causes in my mind, he returned from the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Ana, but that was my boss." he said, grabbing his car keys. "I have to go to the office."

"It's okay, Christian." I replied quietly, worried about how upset he seemed from the phone call. His eyebrows were furrowed, his complexion was pale, and my grey eyes seemed to be filled with uncertainty. Was that also fear that I saw? I wasn't sure, but my gut told me that it was. I stepped toward him, and he hurriedly stepped toward me, kissing me on the forehead.

"I love you." he said quickly, moving toward the door. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," I replied, looking around the apartment as I tried to think of everything I needed to grab before I left. Christian seemed to forget I was there and already made his way to the door. I quickly grabbed my shoes and keys and chased after him, barefoot, out the door before he could shut me in. I tried to put my shoes on as he locked the door behind us, and wound up having to hurry after him with one shoe on my foot toward the elevator. When I stepped in behind him, I brought my foot back behind me and slipped the other shoe on as he hit the button for the ground floor. The door closed as I tried to catch my breath from our sudden departure, studying his rigid demeanor as he now seemed to be all business. Something was definitely bothering him, and it killed me that I didn't know what.

"Christian…" I said slowly, "Are you okay?"

He turned to look at me, and a new expression came over his face. He looked more like my Christian again, and in an instant, he swept me up in his arms, kissing me fiercely as we slammed into the wall of the elevator. I gasped for air between kisses, feeling the intense fire burning inside of me as his touch and taste sent every nerve in my body on a tangent of flames and electrical currents. I bit his lip and groaned against him, dying to push away from him and slam the emergency stop button. I could tell in his body language that he _needed _me; that need only drove me more insane, and I needed him just as badly. I moved my hips to press my lower body against his, and felt him reach down and grab the belt loops on my jeans to pull me tight against him, when a small ping sounded. In another instant, he let me go, jumped back, and smoothed out his clothes. The elevator door opened with him composed and back to being the quiet, professional Christian, while I stood beside him, disheveled and confused. He looked back at me one last time and offered a weak smile.

"I'll talk to you soon, Ana." he said quietly, slipping out of the elevator and sprinting to the front door.

I watched him with concern, confusion, and lingering desire. He had been able to compose himself in mere seconds, and here I was, still trying to regain composure. Was he not as affected by me as I was with him? I was positive that couldn't be true. But there was something going on that was affecting him, and I could see it with how he was now acting with me. I only hoped I would get some answers later, when he promised he would call me back. I walked outside and found my car, parked along the sidewalk. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, putting on my seatbelt and starting the car. I made sure to put on my bluetooth before I started to drive, knowing that I was bound to get a call from someone if I forgot to use it. Within minutes, I heard a familiar beep in my ear. I laughed at the good sense I'd had to put on my hands-free device, and I tapped the button. "Hello?"

"Ana, sweetie!" I heard my mother on the end and drew a sharp breath. "How have you been? I haven't heard from you in ages! You're not working too hard, are you, honey?"

"Mom!" I exclaimed, feeling guilty for having missed her phone calls for the past couple of months. Granted, she had called maybe three times in two months, and I had actually been working when she called, but I was so busy with Christian after work that I had always managed to forget to call back until an ungodly hour when she would have already been asleep. I mentally cursed the time difference between us and looked at the clock in the car. It was 5:05pm, which meant that it was five after 8pm where she was. She would be going to bed soon. My mom had always been an early bird - early to bed, early to rise. I laughed inwardly at the reminder.

"I've been really busy." I said, adding apologetically, "I'm so sorry I haven't called you back. How are you?"

"I've been great!" she replied, giggling. I knew by the giggle that something was going on. "Well, more than great, actually. I met someone!"

My mother, the hopeless romantic, had already been married three times. My father had been her first husband, but he had died of cancer when I was two. She avoided speaking about him because she said his battle had been hard on her, and it still hurt for her to think about how he died, and that I never really knew him. I still had faint, fuzzy memories of him when I would dream; brown hair, thin face, warm smile, and blue eyes like mine. I could never remember his voice, though; something that bothered me more than it probably should have. Her second husband had failed to realize that a wife with a child meant a full-time family, and after about four months with us, he decided to leave one night for milk and eggs. It took Mom about five months to realize that he was really never coming back. I was five when she had met Ray, husband number three, and the only one that I had reason to remember a name for. He had been a kind man to my mother, and a caring father to me. He was always patient with me, and he would take the time to sit back and listen to whatever I had to say. My mother, unfortunately, felt lacking when she was with him, and I would hear them argue at night while my mother protested that her needs weren't being met. I was too little to understand what she meant; hell, I still didn't exactly understand as an adult, but I remember crying one day when I was eight as my mother packed all of our belongings into her car, telling me to say goodbye. Tears were rolling down Ray's face when I ran up to him and threw my arms around his neck.

"You be good for your mother, kiddo." he said quietly, "And you can call me whenever you want."

We moved from Arizona to Oregon, hot to cold, and our lives seemed to settle. Boyfriends came and went in and out of our lives; each one, my mother was convinced, would be the one for her, and we could finally be a complete family. But as I grew older, they all seemed to become worse and worse. I became gangly and awkward, and they noticed in a heartbeat. Each one would pick on me for being scrawny, looking like a shrunken beanpole, not having any feminine curves, and my mother would simply pat their chests as she would tell them to be nice, fawning over them and redirecting their attention to her. Even though I loved my mother, I resented her for two things - caring more about her boyfriends than she had about me, and for leaving Ray. It was easy to bury this resentment when we were distanced, and even when we were talking, but the all too familiar giggle in her voice would always make the feelings resurface, and I would find myself putting up walls. She would tell me about the new guy, and then she would shut me out of her life so she could focus on Mr. Right Number-I-Lost-Count.

"Who is he?" I asked, feigning curiosity like the good girl my mother had called to confide in.

"His name is Robert; well, he goes by Bob." she began, gushing. "He's a doctor! I met him when I twisted my ankle a month ago going jogging. He's amazing, Annie!"

I rolled my eyes as I thought briefly of the new guy's profession before hiding a laugh at how my mom had met him. Jogging? Her? She was accident prone; jogging had been a bad pick for her. I focused on the task at hand, switching lanes as I continued to pretend to be interested.

"That's great, Mom." I replied, trying to sound overjoyed. "I'm so happy for you."

"Well, Annie, here's the thing." she said, building up to something. Oh no. "We are completely in love - in fact, so much in love that, well..._Bob proposed!_"

Oh shit.

"Congratulations, Mom!" I said, positive that the disappointment was seeping in my tone. I was having a hard time hiding it. I started thinking good things. Puppies. Kittens. Sunset at the park. Christian taking pictures. Christian, on one knee…

Stop. I wasn't going there right now. I wouldn't be my mom - I would take my time before I would even start thinking about marriage. I needed to keep a level head, especially right now.

"Thank you, sweetie!" she replied, bubbling with excitement. "So, the wedding is in a few weeks, and we are planning something right here in Georgia. Aaaand, I want you to be here, and I want you to be my maid of honor."

"What?!" I exclaimed, nearly driving off onto the shoulder. "You're getting married _when_?! And you want me to do _what_?!"

"Honey, calm down!" my mother laughed, "I know it's fast, and it's a lot, and it's so _exciting_! Oh my gosh, I'm so thrilled! Please, Annie, come down to Georgia and share this with me - with us." Her use of the word _us_ made me shiver involuntarily, and not in a good way. "This is it; he's the one - for real, this time. I've never been so sure of anything before in my life. Please. Bob will pay for the airfare and you can stay at the hotel where we are having the wedding, on him."

I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave Washington and Christian, I didn't want to see my mother with yet another new man, and I didn't want to see her getting remarried. I had been hopeful that she had stopped aspiring to find a new husband when it had been so long since her last relationship, but apparently finding herself was put in the backseat the day she twisted her ankle and met Dr. Bob. But she was my mother and, despite everything negative that we had been through, I still loved her. So I sighed.

"Okay, Mom." I conceded, smiling weakly as I tried to convince myself that she had genuinely met someone good for a change. "I'll come to Georgia."

"Oh, thank you honey!" she squealed, making my ear hurt. "I promise you, you're going to love him! And I won't make you wear a ridiculous looking dress, I swear."

I laughed quietly and shook my head, pulling up along my own apartment building as I arrived home. "Okay, Mom." I said calmly, turning off the engine and taking off my seatbelt. I heard another beep and picked up my phone. Christian's name was flashing on the screen. This could be important. "Mom, I've got another call - I'll talk to you again soon."

"Okay, honey - hurry up and call me back!" she insisted. "We need to talk travel dates and arrangements!"

"I will." I said hurriedly as I hit the switch call button. "Christian." I said, sighing.

"Everything okay?" he asked. He sounded worried, but preoccupied as well.

"Yeah, I was just talking to my mom." I said, trying to reassure him quickly so I could find out what happened with work.

"Is she okay?" he asked, trying to show his concern for me.

"Oh, yeah, she's great - she's getting remarried." I said, and I knew my lack of excitement had to be confusing for him. He didn't seem to notice very much, though. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

"Can I come over?" he asked. "I need to see you."

We had just seen each other, but the tone in his voice told me that something bad had happened, and I felt a need to see him, too. "Yes." I said quietly, my heart aching at the neutrality in his tone.

"I'll be there in five minutes." he said, hanging up before I could tell him I loved him.

I sat on the hood of my car, waiting impatiently for Christian to pull up. I jumped when I saw his car, and practically ran into his car when he tried to park. He got out of his car and ran a hand through his hair, visibly upset. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to comfort him, and he became rigid in my arms.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, feeling pained by his reaction to my comforting gesture.

He was quiet for a moment. His face reflected anger and frustration, and eventually he sighed. "I was fired." he said quietly.

I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, hoping that the move would comfort him, but he stood like a statue, unmoved. "I'm so sorry…" I said quietly. "Why?" 

He shook his head. "I can't tell you." he said simply, avoiding my eyes.

I frowned at his avoidance. "It's the NDA, isn't it?" I asked, "You're never allowed to tell me what you did at your job, are you?"

He shook his head, and I sighed. At least we didn't have a future of secrets now; after all, they had fired him, and he could always find a new job taking pictures elsewhere. I stopped and heard his words echo in my head. _I was fired…_ Freelancing for the paper wasn't enough for the bills. He had just lost his bread and butter. What was he going to do now?

"What are you going to do now?" I asked, releasing him from my embrace.

He seemed to relax a little more, confirming that he wasn't comfortable with being touched right now. He sighed, running his hand through his hair again. "I guess I'm back to looking for work." he said quietly. "Though I don't know if I can compete in the photography field anymore. My reference for the agency has been revoked now, so I doubt I can become a investigative photographer for another office."

I sighed at his lack of confidence. There had to be something. "What about being a private photographer?" I asked, "You could do family photo shoots, engagement photos...wedding photos…" The wheels began to turn in my mind.

"I would need a portfolio for that type of work." he replied uncertainly. "I don't have any photos to use to build that kind of portfolio."

"I might be able to solve that…" I said quietly. "If I told you I can get you a job taking wedding photos, all expenses paid, would you be willing to leave Washington for a small vacation?"

Christian looked at me questioningly. "You know of a place already?" he asked, obviously not catching on to where the conversation was leading.

"I sure do." I replied confidently, unlocking my phone. I found the number in my call log and hit the call back button. It only took two rings for me to get an answer. "Ana!" my mother answered, sounding overjoyed. "Ready to talk details?"

"In a minute," I replied, "But first, I have a question - do you have a wedding photographer lined up yet?"

A/N: So it looks like Ana and Christian are going to Georgia! Hope everyone caught the Fifty Shades references I scattered in this chapter. I got a good giggle from them myself. For anyone who is curious about the camera that Christian uses, it's a Pentax K1000 35mm SLR. I wanted to use something with some age on it, as he seems to be fairly sentimental anyway, and as a photographer, there is a level of passion in his work. What does everyone think of his mysterious second job? Is it strange that he was suddenly fired? What are your thoughts? I'll be tying up some loose ends very soon, so stay tuned! I'm trying to write in between working increased hours at my two jobs, as well as working on the last of my college work, and now the gym on top of everything else! My mind works so well when my body gets a good workout! :-D Keep in touch, y'all!

WordsInStitches


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